Hey, Paul Simon! You can, if you’d rather, call yourself Al!
My Dad is Salvador not sAL!
My Mother has much wherewithal, not Al!
I’d rather call the better looking Garfunkel – Art!
You know, because I can speak right from my heart,
Sometimes a poor ass like me is more profound than all the nation’s top brass!
I can say, it is not just cars that can be thieved, but stellar objects, on their part!
You know, the weather bees like to capitalise on an honest bee
I don’t sing to be betwixt or bewitched, I sing to be free!
I am sorry I have to be oblique, not even stark grey crystal clear chalcedony!
Would you fancy a trick of a limerick, when evil others are responsible for all the chicanery?
And you get called out and punished for reacting; how come there is so much misdirected impunity?
I am not a red dragon, nor a yellow one; some stars are yellow, I fancy!
So I sang a song and it could be manipulated by the thuggery!
Speaking of thuggery, I am forced into allegory
Because all the perpetrators have the privilege of laissez-faire; they can be violent against the victims (Ironically, the victims are punished, the villains go free!)
montes-musings.blog 