Pity Party

PITY PARTY

i feel like a broken clock with a second hand moving one tick forward and two ticks back

on the face of it
where the numbers lie it’s a little salty
a little shy
but beneath it all
where the gears connect

there’s a palpitation
the rhythm is hectic tambourines at a monkey picnic

even the devil has Beelzebub
but there’s no one here who gives a rub so I’m throwing a little pity party
and no one’s invited but me

my friends all have issues, yes, oh, all kinds of them

from jealousy to short term memory stand me up like a punching bag then wring me out like a kitchen rag to absorb the spill

of their overkill

from the foo-foo drinking
and zha-zha dancing
and the one precious stone they’re not

romancing

even the devil has Beelzebub
but there’s no one here who gives a rub so I’m throwing a little pity party
and no one’s invited but me

i feel like a warrior in a time of peace my only adversary a spoiled niece

no roads to build
no kings to make
and i just found out my watch is fake

the alligator is really snake

and the quartz wasn’t mined
like the Switzerlandy kind
it’s just a thrift store find
with the arms of a Bazooka Joe compass

even the devil has Beelzebub
but there’s no one here who gives a rub so I’m throwing a little pity party
and no one’s invited but me