The Hairy Misanthropes
How doth the hairy misanthropes
Plot and plunder the fun from my life
Mistrust and disdain are their wary bedfellows
How dare the hairy misanthropes
Trample upon my sparkle and joy
With such glee and alarming regularity
BUT Why? I ask with a genuine confusion
They blame such naivety on my delusions
Their answer is always that “Life Is Hard”
For such is the belief of these massive fucktards
(sorry – I mean “misanthropes”, obviously)
So why do those hairy misanthropes
Spread their gloom and despair, like birdshit in my hair
At every turn, weaving their terrible way through my dreams?
It is simply because those hairy misanthropes
Have nothing of their own they did not steal from those like me
Have no dreams, no joy and, most telling, no integrity.
So when troubled by your own particular Hairy Misanthrope
I’m thinking that this knowledge might present a spark of hope
Remember that, try as they might, they themselves can never be
Creative, fresh and vibrant
Hopeful and ebullient
Friendly, trusting, dare I say
Genuine and nice in our own way
and .... (we can say it proudly)
WITH our Integ ri ty.
By me. Fuck you, Hairy Misanthropes.