You are not being fair
Our love is meant to last forever
Umlauts do make a band more metal
Agony is exactly like ecstasy

Ranch dressing is good diet food
Equality is a communist plot
Nagging is a great way to force someone to change
Orangutans are the Old Men of Sumatra

There is there there
Blowjobs are as much fun for you as for me
Elbows are the sexiest part of the body
I don't have any major character flaws

Noon is an acceptable wake-up time
Getting there is half the fun
Fapping after your mother visits isn't creepy
And size doesn't matter

I don't know why you can't understand this
Really, you just aren't being at all fair to me

If life were fair we'd all be at one
And cotton candy would flow like
Melting snow cones in the sun
While clowns rode in motorbike
Parades at the edge of town
And Buffy said something sharp to Spike
As the sun slid calmly down
On the scene where Madame vents
To the barker who loudly yells
About the hookers in the velvet tents
Wearing dirty red and yellow veils

And some joker would pretend a suicide
While onlooking geeks pulled out their hair
As sick folks outside the circus really died
Thinking, "What's all that fucking noise out there?"

An old man sits
in a musty room, with the
curtains shut, pounding
at a keyboard thinly veiled attacks
in the name of poetry-
He invents seventeen hookers
and covers his face, contorted
in the same display of power,
in a layer of makeup, a pale
white for some inhumanity,
and a dark red, for the
contrast's sake. He becomes
the clown on the motorbike,
spitting at the children
who only came to see the elephant