Tattoos in Mayberry

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Spent enough money to rent the whole town.
slipping us your funny pills
til we can't move around.
protected by barricade
hellfire decree
striking any opposition down.


With bonds and stocks in both hands, ill gotten gains too.
in your land of plenty,
I have a message here waiting for you
You've said you don't need it
but, you've certainly got it
under fog and a haze of thick smog we wheeze through
Gripping tight with white knuckles to haystacks of cash
hot properties
pay to the bearer hard goods
for some gash.
While we get the shaft
and the lash
The  boot from your stoop
You cashed in filthy
as other men bled,
 screaming bloody murder
to "reduce overhead."
Preaching how
thrift will vault us doops
to the promised land.
While,not once skipping your dues
for club Apen or Med

It's assured we will squirm
with good reason for doubt
After all, the odds run in your favor
since, you are the house.
making the headlines
as our conquering savior
do you feel Cain's burden
when the deal goes down.
laying waste to another quaint little town
Salting New Carthage then burning it down.
Darkening God's curtain
soiling his glory's Crown

Heating up hell and claiming it's paradise's gate.
 sacks full of riches as fisherman's bait
Your convictions  say little.
too little too late
Still you've handily sealed your competitors fate
boasting
windfall profits
while hedging your bets
employing your best ruse
some maudlin excuse,
while mumbling
schleusse how
"them that's gots gets."

Buddy Bee Anthony










Copyright January 26th 2011 Gary Bercu



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