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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Don’t know about you, but I think it’s stupid To give lethal weapons to a diapered Cupid (and what happens when he’s gotta go?) See his soft feathered wings? (Those fat little things!) They flutter fast as he flies to and fro But as he tries to take aim To start the Valentine game He sees the earth rushing up from below For he keeps sinking down And hitting the ground Overburdened by his arrows and bow --- He comes to our planet just one day a year To practice his skills as a shootist The rest of the time he’s hidden away— What’s he do in absentia? Be a flutist? ‘Cuz he sure can’t shoot straight, this fat little angel, Child of eros and chaos and earth I wonder if Venus had any idea He’d be so fickle, so playful, perverse Some of his arrows are gold-tipped, The tips of the others are lead And where the gold ones inspire amoré, The lead ones breed hatred instead --- Yes, he’s armed & he’s dangerous, This chubby fly boy And he’s out of control in the air At sweet couples kissing, He keeps shooting & missing -- Hither & yon, over here, over there So I say, Watch out for that cherub! Stay out of his way! Young lovers, go, take cover now! Give one another a bear hug And try to live through this day – Look, he just hit a tree – Holy Cow! Like I said, it’s just stupid To arm this babe, Cupid, To entrust him with arrows and bow For while he can fly, he just can’t shoot straight And I don’t want his hands to be holding my fate I tell ya, he’s just got to go Before something happens And his lead-headed weapons Accidentally break the heart of my beau
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