I’m half shot at the bar.
A tiny visitor lands on the rim
Of my glass and makes me think.
If you pull the wings of a fly,
Then hold it to your ear,
Can you hear it screaming?
If it slips outta your hand,
It could get stuck in your head
And might make some changes
In your brain. Then you might
Get fly-ish and suddenly develop
A taste for garbage and dog crap.
Freak out the neighbors stickin’
Your head in the trash can and
Lickin’ their schnauzer’s ass.
You’d be jumpin’ off bar stools
Thinkin’ you could fly, end up
With a deathly fear of spiders,
Tremble at the frog’s croak.
It would just be a matter of time
‘Fore the big flyswatter gets ya
And you go splat.