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I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING

Sunrise,
The color fills my eyes.
A brand new day, a brand new crackpot scheme.
Heads shake,
Wagging fingers ache.
Time to tidy up this messy dream.

Looks like:
I don't know what I'm doing,
what I'm doing, what I'm doing,
What I'm doing, doing, doing,
Tweedle-dee!
I don't know what I'm doing,
Such a foolish stoolcap!
Lack of planning,
sparks are fanning lunacy....and goonacy.

Oh no,
I've fallen in a hole.
I marched right past those blinking lights and cones.
Stern union men,
Waving flags wif frantic hands,
A flowing bloody nose and broken bones.

Seems like:
I don't know what I'm doing,
what I'm doing, what I'm doing,
What I'm doing, doing,
Such absurdity!
Guess I don't know what I'm doing,
Like a dim-lit, half-wit;
Murder, arson and grand larcen fantasties...are tempting me,
They're tempting me!

See here,
You can blame it on the beer.
What seemed at first a dimple was a wart.
No raincoat,
The dragon's in the moat.
A dose of clap, a gonorrheic sword.

Seems to be that:
I don't know what I'm doing,
what I'm doing, what I'm doing,
What I'm doing is imbuing ignominy.
I don't know what I'm doing,
A brew baffled asshole!
Down the road, extra-wide load of roguery...'n sociopathy...
Has set me free!!!

 

C & P Copyright Chris Giunta 2004

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