This guy spent a big parta his life,
Looking back to change the past.
He’d hire psychics and attorneys too
To give his past a blast.
He seldom looked ahead to see
Whatever he might be.
Instead invested present tense,
Carving out what he believed.
T’was in his soft stoned hard existence
Where everything rubbed the wrong way.
Often led Dude to imagine,
He’d never have his say.
Not even here today.
Somebody had to pay.
Then by God they will pray,
That they stay outa his way.
Let those whom give Dude ample birth,
Be rewarded with a no-scratch pass.
But them who crowd and push and shove him,
Are welcome to kiss Dude’s ass.
Because they’ve got no class.
And are over-run with sass.
In their heads should be bashed.
Hah hah! Justa jokin’ witt ya ma!
And jokin’ witt you too, pa.
But home alone the joke was old.
Dude was tired of being told.
That he was to bold and too old.
Man, that son-of-a-bitch was cold!
Shoulda talked to him before I told
Him to shut the fuck up, get in the truck,
Cause pally you’re outa luck.
You who made this muck.
In it we are stuck.
Who’s diggin’ now, you fuck?
Hah hah! In the truck…!
There’s not always tomorrow.
Tomorrow ain’t another day.
It’s a repeat of today and the same as yesterday,
And buddy-boy you’re leaving quite a trail.
Tomorrow, today and yesterday.
Yer already half spent,
So focus on what’s left before it’s gone.
The past don’t change the future,
Only today and you can do that.
But today’s the only day that this will work.
Thank you, friend.