ODE TO A GOOD BOY
Motherís on the telephone.
Once again Iím alone.
She mouths to me: ďBe a good boy.Ē
What else would I be?
Christmas is coming you see.
And Santa is watching my moves.
I hope he doesnít remember
About the day in November
When I tied my sister up with a rope.
Or that time in July
I got grandmaís hair dye
Whatís the big deal? The cats are alright.
Or the cold day in January
When I gave commentary
On dog pooping, in Sunday School class.
I donít understand why
Aquarium fish canít fly
When thrown from the top of a roof.
Or what happens to slugs
When theyíre sealed up in jugs
And thrown to the river to swim?
The hamsters are fine
Though tied up with twine
And hung from the oak tree out back.
Mom got so worked up
When I took coffee cups
Lined them up and played ďbowling alley.Ē
I didnít know they would break
Or that the whole house would shake
If firecrackers exploded from the roof.
I try being a good boy
But itís all a decoy
For the real me thatís hiding inside.
Bad is down to the bone
Canít be hidden under cologne
Even the good stuff that my grandpa wears.
Daddy says being good
Is like sawing dry wood
With a spoon in the middle of the ocean.
But today I will try
Not being the bad guy
Especially since I know Santa is watching
Iíll try with my might
And Iíll be alright
Until the ring a ding - ding of the phone,
Then Iíll be alone
And my history has shone
Itís the worst time for being a good boy.
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