My Life Would Be a Riot
My life would be a riot
And my thoughts would be more bold
If my grave was not so quiet
And my girth was not so cold
I thought about a diet
But my precious life was sold
No reason left to buy it
When your brain is growing mold
I wish I could deny it
But my roots have taken hold
Nobody else should try it
Even for a bag of gold
Cremation is the option that is better when you fly it
Or so they say when you are growing old
I don’t know why I had to die but even my disquiet
Was better when my sugar was controlled
The moral of this story is to people who apply it
Including those who live outside the fold
That belly fat is common to the people who supply it
But even more to skin that has been rolled.
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