Sex with a Scorecard

So I'm sat here on my ass.
Listening to all your trash.
I've a feeling, I don't know,
Something deeper than
A dynamo.

I feel like whistling along,
Singing the song, but
All I hear is ron-do-dom
-Don. A litany of blatent
Lies, lost years, and forgotten
Cries.

Please help mother, 'cause I've
Learnt to care: boys will be boys.
Drank so much that I'm out there
Playing the game: that same lame
Game. Remember honey, the fallacy
Of fame.

Sex with a scorecard, put me in the know.
Done so many things, guilty things that show,
It was sex with a scorecard, every
Moves a point. Sex with a scorecard,
Fouls for free! here's a joint!

So now I'm incarcerated in the County jail,
Locked away from my loved ones: big
Blondes and ginger ale. It was sex with
A scorecard, the crime of overdrive,
Sex with a scorecard, every day's a ride.

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Mad
Review
Mad wrote a review · Sat Mar 17, 2007 10:37 pm

I really liked that, it flowed really well.

All the alliteration and rhymes that were encorporated throughout were really good. I can't really point out anything that I didnt like or thought didnt work.

Oh and my favourite two lines had to be

Lies, lost years, and forgotten
Cries.


Very nice.



Should we not walk? On our feet? The ones I now have again? I do like my feet. They are befittingly perambulatory.
— Pattern (Rhythm of War by Brandon Sanderson)