Pair of Kings

Axis of evil
For a five card flush
With corners up for the count

A whiplash pain in the neck
It's all a wreck, a plane crash party
For the ballet ball

Noose-tied licorice, dark and sweet
You come to meet; eat; taste defeat
Blessed are the meek
Take a seat, they got something to say
They spilt chocolate on your carpet
On the dry-clean rug,
you shrug, it don't matter, what a sweet mistake
It's too late to kick up dust, to cause a fuss
Let the yellow rust of irons cloud up in disgust

It's already happening, crops growing saturnine
Time to reap what you sow, as the saying goes
On and on in sweet platitudes, begging for gratitude
With the right attitude the punch of a fist, a slap on the wrist
The taste of a kiss it's all the same, a shame, a blame game.


The End

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