My Pillow!
O my pillows of old!
Just get me one with some feathers!
Don’t want all that fake puffy stuff;
Just some feathers, that’s enough!
You know those birds got a purpose;
We pluck those feathers
And put ’em in a bag;
Yeah, all that work may be a drag,
But a natural medicine for the head
And the best way to go to bed.
What happened to the pursuit of the “natural”?
Ah, you know there’s a purpose for those birds!
Yeah, they sing and send drown some turds
Keeping us aware of their presence;
They sit around on wires or a fence.
And we make good use of the Lord’s critters
But especially the feathers of those tweeters.
1130 on 6 May, 2023
Robertson Departs to Heaven and the Perverts are Happy. They Won’t Be Bothered by Him as They Spend Their Eternity Together in Hell. O The Beach!
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