ANyone viewing this tell me what you think plz
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater
Peter, Peter pumpkin eater
Had a wife and couldn’t keep her
Put her in a pumpkin shell
And there he kept her very well…. almost
Meals, and food she never got
And so her flesh began to rot
The stench of death encased her home
And so the pumpkin absorbed her bone
To the pumpkin this was a treat
And he decided it twas this that he’d eat
So he pulled up his roots and off he went
Until he came to a camper’s tent
He opened up wide and swallowed it whole
…The camper then died; poor soul
A little ways away
, At a house where Peter was to stay,
He sat latching on his coat
He knew he must hurry or he’d his head would bloat
Remembering his wife
From the rest of her life
He ran out the door
And down each and every floor
And rushed to the pumpkin patch
With great dispatch
He looked for his soul mate
But all he found was a small grove of hate
As his mind began to bend
He realized he done it again…
His eyes open wide
To reveal what was truly inside
…Insanity
If Peter couldn’t have love
Then no one could’ve
His jealousy consumed him
There was nothing that anyone could do for him
So he got his axe
And was prepared to slice open some backs
Slowly he crept through the night
With his neighbor insight
And with one giant swing
And some insane laughing
He took her life
For why should anyone else have a wife?
He walked down the lane
, Obviously insane,
Hacking up people
Not even being meaningful
Until he came across a wicked sight
He couldn’t believe his eyes yet he knew he was right
So he diced up the pumpkin
And ate all but its skin
His mission was finished yet something wasn’t right
He pondered this thought all through the night
His mind was deranged
So nothing had changed
As he stalked back and forth
Trying to figure his worth
He figured his thirst hadn’t been quenched
And it’s in blood that he must be drenched
Cutting his way through the town
Not even giving the people a chance to turn around
He soon finds out
That the numbers of people have run out
So he lays back his head
Surrounded by the dead
And he closes his eyes and sleeps…
He finally wakes up in the rain
In a straightjacket marked insane
In the seat of a car
And he hasn’t traveled very far
But one things for certain
We won’t be seeing poor peter again
 Ieri Aedile · Sun Dec 10, 2006 @ 12:27pm · 1 Comments |
