CROWS AND DOVES
1
You mongrels want to curse me,
Then go ahead and curse,
For all that does is make you,
A whole lot bloody worse.
2
You wanna call me yellow,
While you leer there in a clique,
Makes me a clever fellow,
And you a cowardly hick.
3
Cause I ain't gonna rib you,
I'm gonna agree with what you say,
'Cause to argue with a bloody fool,
Just ain't the clever way.
4
And after when it's over,
And I might well be dead,
I'll hunt you down and haunt you,
I'll climb into your head.
5
Cause I will be your conscience,
For I'll know just how you feel,
Like an unimportant twisted git,
With a wound that just won’t heal.
6
So try not to be such morons,
And call me not bad names,
Else all they'll find in the end,
Are what’s left of your brains,
7
Squirming in a tantrum,
Like worms in a fishing pot,
Following each others slimy trails,
Till they die and slowly rot.
8
The moral of this tale folks,
Lives in all the brothers’ lives,
Whose kin were subject to such jokes,
That left tears in their eyes.
9
But now stand free and lead the way,
Through the scum left by the hate,
Of those who had it all the to say,
Who ruled the whole debate.
10
So you folk now who are oppressed,
You folk who are put down,
Treat all the spite as cowardly jest,
And with patience stand your ground.
11
Because in the end the Doves will dine,
On the bodies of the rotting crows,
For all the dreams you thought divine,
Come from the ashes of your foes.
©24 January 04 Colin F Jones
Webmaster: Thurman P. Woodfork
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