21 May 2012
True friends are good and hard to find That's what I was told by a chum of mine, We'd go to places near and far, In search of buddies, to have a good laugh. The more we'd find, The steeper the round, The bar was always a wasteful mound.
After a while my friends couldn't bare, I thought it was me, Or maybe my hair, The cut or the sweep, The perm or the gel, What one could think, No one could tell.
So I left it alone, And plodded along, Hoping they wouldn't notice, My massive shlong, One could hope, Or one could pray, But no matter the length, Of my coat that day.
True Friends • Opuss № I