betrayal, catholic church, children, Literature, poetry, satirical poetry, Song

Exile

M

I wish I was a murderer
they are very cool
what can I do what can I do

I wish I could slaughter and be applauded by friends
but I am weak and faint

There is nothing I can do about my constitution
I also don’t agree with prostitution

I need to go to the hills
wearing my high heels

With all those terribly boring people
who don’t kill

That’s the end of my stupid song
I’m going to become friends
with a Christian monk

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