somewhere in France or Italy
I Miss The 'Stute
I miss the ‘stute, I can't refute,
This outside life just don't compute.
The love ain't there, the people stare,
But I can't find the ‘stute, anywhere...
I longed to sneak an outside peak,
Yes, life inside had seemed so bleak.
Worked at Wal-Mart, wudn't too smart,
They couldn't appreciate my art.
So I came back, hadn't lost track...
Of those who loved Van Gogh, the crack.
But, lo, the woe, I just wanna know -
Where the hell did the ‘stute go?
Nuts here! Nuts there!, Nuts everywhere!
Nuts on the ground, Nuts in the air.
ONE FLEW OVER, two ducked under,
The rest tore the whole place asunder.
JUSTIN KASE you don't think it's true,
I warn you JUSTIN THYME, I do...
I see a mad woman with a hatchet,
Yes, indeed, it seems you pissed off CRATCHET.
Yes, you best go, and take PABLO,
You know he's getting kinda slow.
I'll search for ol' LEONARDO,
And that loser, MICHELANGELO.
Be cool, be trite, stay out of sight.
Let's all meet at Wal-Mart tonight.
Indeed me thinks something here stinks,
And it ain't left over sausage links.
Hey, that reminds me, where's the MOOSE?
Ah, he best have a good excuse...
No, Someone's behind what happened here,
Me thinks the Moose, and Balladeer!
Only someone I held true and dear,
Would I ever lend an ear.
[This message has been edited by Vincent VanGogh (edited 10-05-1999).]