The Lousy Bums Prayer

Our father who art in New Haven
Hollering down the drain.
Those crummy bums
Over in Hoboken,
You know the ones,
Those turds massive as a heart attack,

You tell me when
I can knock their heads,
Pay my respects
The old fashioned way.
You tell me father–
I’m waiting over here.
You just say the word.

Your obedient servant,
You know the rest…
I don’t have to say it.
You’re the tits with me.
Always have been.

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