Losing The Edge Of My Plausible Sanity

Losing The Edge Of My Plausible Sanity


Sanitude,
A stumble I can't elude;
How rude!
Evade me, derange me,
But ''holy moly,' don't delay me.
Everything so plausible,
In a situation called life
That is not very pausible...
See I've got the itch
And I know the spot,
But watch the scab and careful for the rot.
Oh, them tomatoes in the garden of life
Don't need no strife,
Where have ya put my wife,
Any concoction is more than i can see,
'Cause i cannot handle how they all
Panhandle
Right near where i go pee.
There's the edge of the knife,
Here the hand of a loving wife,
There the smile of a lunatic unabashed,
The silly little face that I long to smash
(With an axe)
With a big old musket
Full of wriggling, giggling bass.
There's a pot in my kettle
And a spoon in my straw,
A dog has four legs
And southerners have a paw.
Nothing makes sense,
All is vanity, vanity;
This tilted planet has got
My feet unbalanced and wavering,
Losing the edge of my plausible sanity.


July 30th, 2005
Allan D Combs