Tuesday, May 20, 2014

My tinfoil hat

















I need to mend my tinfoil hat
It was working well till the cats had a spat
It needs more layers and that is that
I need to wear that tinfoil hat

My wife follows me patiently from room to room
She finds me even when I hide under the bed
She thinks that it's great fun, she uses her broom
There's honestly days when I wish I were dead

The hat used to work well, she hadn't a clue
The TV would hold her with riveting glue
With my hat on I could imperceptibly construe
The duties of housework in ways gentlemen do

Not saying twas perfect but give me a break
Sweeping and washing has some give and take
Dust on the mantle? For sweet goodness sake
The cats will expunge it in their next brawling quake

Books say dementia induces adherence
But really expostulations and your precious clearance?
Yes dear I'm cooking, I'm making us ... stew?
More pepper you say? Well how do you do

My hats glued together with more shiny tin
This business of hiding, is it really a sin?
My sanity's brushings with my enchantress's whim
Will end now my hat's fixed, it has a new brim
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