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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