Not Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are, who gives a rip?
I’m here to give the cops the slip.
They will not see me on the lam
With stolen trinkets in my grip.
My little ho won’t give a damn
When she observes how buzzed I am
Between the rotgut and the meth:
The longest time, she’s wanted glam.
She’s nagged and nagged me half to death,
So now, at least, she’ll pause for breath.
Cuz all I hear is pick, pick, pick.
I sympathize with old Macbeth.
The woods are lovely for this trick.
Can’t catch me, cop! Can’t catch me, dick!
For I am headed nowhere, quick.
For I am headed nowhere, quick.
Last edited by Julie Steiner; 12-16-2009 at 12:20 PM.
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