My rhymes suck, and this I know
Because everybody told me so
I keep scrawling just to get better
And my talent falls under the weather
Simplicity and coherent rhyming sound
It drives the Morlocks further underground
When my hands grab that vessel of ink
I don't have the ability to make New Orleans sink
Gord Downie snickers with subtle derision
That I write these sad, sixth-grade compositions
But the world rotates on the axis evermore
And I rot nervous systems down to the core
The worst poetry comes from my wedded hand
And it causes secret societies to disband
Say goodbye, worshippers of the serpent red
Everybody in the world now must be dead
Solitary is the most despised form of confinement
The trigger is pulled and I get my eternal assignment
And Gord Downie screams about poets are anti-social
And all his fans at the concerts are going postal!
My rhymes suck, and this I know Because everybody told me so I keep scrawling just to get better And my talent falls under the weather Simplicity and coherent rhyming sound It drives the Morlocks further underground When my hands grab that vessel of ink I don't have the ability to make New Orleans sink Gord Downie snickers with subtle derision That I write these sad, sixth-grade compositions But the world rotates on the axis evermore And I rot nervous systems down to the core The worst poetry comes from my wedded hand And it causes secret societies to disband Say goodbye, worshippers of the serpent red Everybody in the world now must be dead Solitary is the most despised form of confinement The trigger is pulled and I get my eternal assignment And Gord Downie screams about poets are anti-social And all his fans at the concerts are going postal!