Karma Is Where It's At

My therapist is an emotional wreck Who sees demons in his own ink blots My wife is receiving marital advice From a priest who never tied the knot My doctor is a hypochondriac With every illness in the books My bank account has a zero balance Seems my accountant is a crook My children consider themselves fatherless Until they need some cash I can’t even relax with a hit off a joint Because the police smoked all my stash My short term memory has long since gone My dog ran away with the spoon A have to eat soup with a salad fork Voices I hear have sucked a helium balloon It seems, good Lord, the joke’s on me Karma is really where it’s at Instead of spending so much time in church I should have been performing some kinder acts