Give me a hideaway from bores and pigs
And I'll care not if Jesus is my Saviour,
As long as I am spared the cant of prigs
Who lecture me on lifestyle and behaviour.
Shield me from woman's nagging and the curse
Of protocol, the dreariness of fashion,
Unshackle me that I may be perverse,
Let all taboos go quickly out of fashion.
Repeal all laws that I may do as want
Provided that I spite no other man,
Let me taste of the fruit, drink from the font,
And drown in self-indulgence while I can.
Give me my Paradise here, now, on Earth,
And sell some other sap the pie in sky;
One bird in hand is, always will be worth
A flock of golden geese after you die.
Back To Poetry Index