Before you award me with ribbons,
before you engrave me a plaque,
I want you to know it came natural,
I was born an asshole in fact.
I yelled at the doctor who slapped me.
I yelled at the nurses it seems.
I took up the room for two hours or more,
and used up the gauze by the reams.
Upon entering school my plight worsened.
My teachers all thought me a cad.
They would draw straws to see
who was the teach of me,
and the short straw was the teacher I had.
I entered the workforce with guts,
but the boss that hired me went nuts.
I'm a challenge un-sweet to all that I meet.
That's why my carer's in these ruts.
Looking for love is a challenge,
weather I'm up or I'm down.
No matter how I should smile,
my face always looks like a frown.
Where will I go to retire?
Where shall I lay my head?
Everyone that knew me,
and they're sure they saw through me,
will secretly hope that I'm dead.
When St. Peter greets me in heaven,
he'll inform me it's true that I'm bad.
But I'll be the asshole in heaven
and St. Pete and I will be glad.
Kevin C. Watkins - copyright 2011
