Days Are Dogs

I am today, yelling instructions to tomorrow

Begging its forgiveness for what all I do now

Because these days are all dogs, distracted by their assholes

The smell of rotting carcasses warmed by the sun

Half covered in snow, but the parts left exposed

Smell so delectable

I am tonight and the morning of tomorrow

Doing penance for last week, for the chances left untaken and

Things we didn't do, because, ah, safety is poison and

We now have no regrets, without regrets we have no progress

I'd rather have had syphilis and gout

Than leave you suffering an incensated out

I am the last day of your life, lived beyond all expectation

My wives and concubines are all fecund and pulchritudinous

And I hope that that's correct, the way that I used "pulchritudinous"

And I pity all the dead, who are not here to witness

Me I'm rich as Croesus, sweet baby Jesus

If I can't take it with me, I'll have it all now

I am the rattle, here to trample you to death

Unlucky, you were cursed to have been born here first

Between us and our desires, shitty trinkets and diversions

That barely make it worth

Crushing the life out of your chest, being frank I almost didn't

Nearly stayed home watching baseball, at the last minute decided