Oh, where did you go to, my lady fair?,
Why, wherever I look why are you there?
In the library, outside Walgreen’s, everywhere,
You haunt my dreams, you poor living nightmare.
Just how did you develop that st-st-st-stutter?
Why do you shuffle along and ceaselessly mutter?
Why do those faded blue eyes peer into the gutter?
What shocking treatment made you our resident nutter?
No cast away dog-end ever escapes your gaze
Despite you wandering ’round in a perpetual daze,
Were you once smoking hot back in your glory days?
Did acid or pipe leave this smoldering testament of user pays?
She looks all too ready for a last trip in a black limousine.
You say I’m a cold callous prick, evil nasty and mean?
No, I am seeing all too clearly what might have been,
Counting my lucky stars and damn glad to be clean.
Scotty, pal, mate, sorry to interrupt your holiday,
You’re hot and frazzled but we’ve something to say,
We’ve put up with becoming the dumping ground
For the Kiwi criminal element you’ve forensicly found.
We don’t mind your cricketers condescending views,
We don’t mind pitching over the ditch fresh fire crews,
We Kiwis don’t mind being the butt of your every joke,
But Scott, don’t dump on us with your second hand smoke.
Down the chimney Santa Claus went
But he’s a touch laden down at present,
For Santa may wish to discharge his duty
But Santa Claus is carrying too large a booty.
The dazed and confused residents below
Heard his ‘Yo ho ho’ become an ‘uh-oh.’
Santa was stuck fast ‘neath the chimney pot-
Speaking of which, pot is legal now, is it not?
They puffed and strained to smoke the stout fellow out
But a man of Santa’s weight can butt wait and mellow out.