I AM WILLING TO BET THAT THE POPE KNOWS HOW TO COPE
SANS USING DOPE

The truth is I can no longer cope
And no one will throw me a rope
Nor will they give me a modicum of hope
And they know I don’t believe in saints, angels or the Pope

Ain’t no saint going to come and pluck me from desperation
And that mythical spirit would know that I’m soaked in perspiration
If there are no angels then can Heaven be real?
Because if it is, and it’s nice, I’m willing to negotiate and/or deal

Ain’t no savior going to bring me to Mt. Zion to pray
No one is going to arrive and save the day
If I am forced to I will find a way to do what needs to be done
And for sure is it hasn’t been easy for my father to have me as a son

In order to sum things up without being verbose but succinct
I need a couple of years to rest, relax and think\
Alas too soon I’ll be running to a needle and dope
And I’m not asking to be Pope I simply need the means to cope
© 2001.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~