The Mess
By Aaron Bentley

(Description)

There's paper strewn on every surface,
Dishes escaping from the sink.
There's spider webs in every corner.
There's nowhere left to sit and thi-iii-iii-iink.

And it's my mess!
Though I'll bet you'd never guess,
I have gotten fond of tripping in the dark.
Yes, it's my mess!
Though its aspect don't impress,
This territory's mine, the mess my mark.

You could say it's a social challenge
You could say it's a mark of sloth;
A low-tech home-securing system
That sets the burglars running o-ooo-ooo-oof.

And it's my mess!
Though I'll bet you'd never guess,
I have gotten fond of tripping in the dark.
Yes, it's my mess!
Though its aspect don't impress,
This territory's mine, the mess my mark.

One day, I'll get myself together.
I think it even could be fun.
I'll do four seasons'-worth of cleaning,
But cleaning up is never do-ooo-ooo-oone.

And it's my mess!
Though I'll bet you'd never guess,
I have gotten fond of tripping in the dark.
Yes, it's my mess!
Though its aspect don't impress,
This territory's mine, the mess my mark.

Yes, it's my mess!
I'm afraid I must confess,
There were times it felt like I'd stepped on a shark.
Yes, it's my mess!
Though sometimes it gives me stress,
This territory's mine, the mess my
Territory's mine, the mess my
Territory's mine, the mess my mark.


© Copyright 2002 Aaron Bentley. All Rights Reserved.
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Questions, comments or suggestions about this web site? Email me at aaron.bentley@utoronto.ca