| General Poetry
posted November 2, 2017 |
Sing this poem to the tune of Battle Hymn of Republic.
Waspy Women We Adore You
These tiny waspy women pay
A dainty little toll,
To shade their face from beauty which
Will purify their soul.
All protestant these daughter's
Ambiguity is plain,
Unscented shapeless bodies with
No luster in their mane.
Waspy women we adore you.
Waspy women we adore you.
Waspy women we adore you.
Impressed with every jewel.
Belief is not conceit received
within a holy name,
but licks with tricks to finger-flick
a bic to bigger flame,
which decimates the future of
White Anglo Saxon Pride
in search of resurrection since
the congregation died.
Waspy women we adore you.
Waspy women we adore you.
Waspy women we adore you.
Please let us play your fool.
All present indiscretions and
confessions passed as sin
will find in time backslidin' minds
are slippin' in again.
Too late for fate to find a place
where faith and hope await
but somethin' in the wind again
will land upon my plate.
Waspy women we adore you
Waspy women we adore you
Waspy women we adore you
We are your special tool.
But old remorse can set a course
when games are played too straight
where beauty brought was never bought
to be the brand new bait.
So wait for fate to find a face
to place inside the race
for there is where the lion's share
of mischief found disgrace.
Waspy women we adore you.
Waspy women we adore you.
Waspy women we adore you.
Though you may treat us cruel.
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