It hangs loosely around your neck
Folded hands bobbing up and down
Ulterior motives on a grander scale
the begging, the whispering, the pleading, the promising
Aren’t you tired to drive all that way?
The country rock god throws his pick into the crowd
mullet and all
It’s too late, my panties are already in the air
flung like oh so many hopes and dreams
and fret over lost virginity and miraculous conceptions
“You are NOT the father”, the crowd exclaims HALLELUJAH!
I’m too tired to fawn over this one
Even the fucking dog dies