It's not about me

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's not about me,
It's not about you,
It's all who see,
The morning hew,
How can you say,
Things'll be better,
There are bills to pay,
And still no letter.
I'd love to share,
In your great hope,
Think it's fair,
I don't, nope.
How are you so calm,
And so at ease,
Knowing that Mom,
Isn't at all pleased,
We spent the money,
And now it's gone,
I'm sorry honey,
Our stuff's on the lawn.
What are we to do,
Without a home?
My sister Sue,
Says we're all alone.
I hope and pray,
Wish on that star,
God will say,
Stay where you are,
I'll help you out,
It's not for you,
But the kids that shout,
And don't know what to do.
It's all your fault,
You spent your check,
You had a vault,
And you haven't a spec,
One of these days,
You'll come to me,
I'll turn you away,
Until you see,
I'm not a banker,
Or financier,
I'm the Tanker,
Overflowing with cheer.
But don't push too hard,
You'll find out why,
You have it so hard,
And I'm not shy,
How much can you take,
From my wondering eye,
As deep as a lake,
The bottom is dry.
I love you still,
That will remain,
I hope my will,
Makes you refrain,
And keeps you from spending,
All that you made,
And sending,
It to Mike Kincade.

Submitted: February 22, 2007

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Submitted: February 22, 2007

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It's not about me,
It's not about you,
It's all who see,
The morning hew,
How can you say,
Things'll be better,
There are bills to pay,
And still no letter.
I'd love to share,
In your great hope,
Think it's fair,
I don't, nope.
How are you so calm,
And so at ease,
Knowing that Mom,
Isn't at all pleased,
We spent the money,
And now it's gone,
I'm sorry honey,
Our stuff's on the lawn.
What are we to do,
Without a home?
My sister Sue,
Says we're all alone.
I hope and pray,
Wish on that star,
God will say,
Stay where you are,
I'll help you out,
It's not for you,
But the kids that shout,
And don't know what to do.
It's all your fault,
You spent your check,
You had a vault,
And you haven't a spec,
One of these days,
You'll come to me,
I'll turn you away,
Until you see,
I'm not a banker,
Or financier,
I'm the Tanker,
Overflowing with cheer.
But don't push too hard,
You'll find out why,
You have it so hard,
And I'm not shy,
How much can you take,
From my wondering eye,
As deep as a lake,
The bottom is dry.
I love you still,
That will remain,
I hope my will,
Makes you refrain,
And keeps you from spending,
All that you made,
And sending,
It to Mike Kincade.


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