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Sun 8 Jul, 2007 11:22 am
Through the peephole I see,
Starin' right back at me:
One round eye.
Could be the pizza guy,
If the peeper were blue;
But, stuck there like glue,
Brown and ugly mean,
Is the nastiest glower I've seen.
Where have I beheld that iris before?
Was it inside the finance store?
Or on the dude sold me my shitty car?
Maybe it's the pissed bastard from the bar?
He can knock until his eyes turn green;
He won't get a step past the screen.
If I just pad softly off to bed.
Screw 'im, hope he concludes I'm dead.
That was me, you bastard. Answer the friggin door next time.
You didn't give the secret knock.
Sissyfrissin' bill collectors.
I shot a finger in the air
To show I frigging do not care.
The bastard shot back at me.
Now I'm on the ground, as cold as can be.
If I had kept my finger in check,
I'd not be headed now for heck.
So be careful all you frustrated souls,
Or you, too, may end up full of holes.
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