Sunday, February 05, 2006

IS THE POT OKAY?

I trundled through the kitchen with a spear in my spine
Swept my arms about me dizzy, screamed in pain, ripped apart
The Farberware cut the air like butter and fear
Overwhelmed me as I heard her cry through Dewar’s and beer

Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay?
Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay?

I laid out on the floor between a kettle and baked beans
And I popped a naxopren and some cyclobenzaprene
I moaned aloud and threw a sprig of parsley ‘gainst the wall
And it sprinkled on my spasms as I heard a plaintive call

Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay?
Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay?

My mind all numb and sticky gum, she flip-flopped angrily
To the saucer spilled of saucy sauces laying by my feet
She chided me my anger, said I needed therapy
Then she called a friend named Fred who asked her confidentially

Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay?
Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay? Is the pot okay?

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