We Call Upon the Author

Oh what we once thought we had we didn't

And what we have now will will never be that way again

So we call upon the author to explain

Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets

Weve shunned them from the greasy grind

The poor little things they look so sad and old

As they mount us from behind

I ask them to desist and to refrain

And then we call upon the author to explain

Well a rosary clutched in his hand

He died with tubes up his nose

And a cabal of angels with with finger cymbals

Chanted his name in code

We shook our fists at the punishing rain

And we called upon the author to explain

He said everything is messed up 'round here

Everything is banal and jejune

Theres a planetary conspiracy

Against the likes of you and me

In this idiot constituency of the moon

Well he knew exactly who to blame

And we call upon the author to explain

Well prolix prolix

Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix

Well I I go guruing down the street

And young people gather 'round my feet

And they ask me things but I don't know where to start

They ignite the powder trail straight to my fathers heart

And yeah once again I call upon the author to explain

Yeah we call upon the author to explain

Well who is this great burdensome slavering dog thing

That mediocres my every thought

I feel like a vacuum cleaner a complete sucker

Its ****** up and he is a ******

But what an enormous and encyclopedic brain

I call upon the author to explain

Yeah we call upon the author to explain alright yeah

Well rampant discrimination

Mass poverty third world debt

Infectious disease global inequality

And deepening socioeconomic divisions

Well it does in your brain

We call upon the author to explain

Oh now hang on my friend doug is tapping on the window

Hey doug how you been

Well he brings me a book on holocaust poetry

Complete with pictures

And then he tells me to get ready for the rain

And we call upon the author to explain

Well you know I say prolix prolix

Some a pair of scissors can't fix

Bukowski was a jerk berryman was the best

He wrote like wet paper maché but he went the hemingway

Weirdly on wings and with maximum pain

We call upon the author to explain

Yeah well I call upon the author to explain

Yeah well down in my bolt hole I see they've published

Another volume of unreconstructed rubbish

Well the waves the waves were soldiers moving

Well thank you ya thank you thank you

And again I call upon the author to explain

Yeah I call upon the author to explain

I call upon the author to explain

Yeah we call upon the author to explain

I said prolix prolix

There's nothing a pair of scissors can't fix