Only Mugs

 

If you should fall foul
Of a chicken in blue,
With a pointed hat, cowl,
Icy daggers at you,

And a little black book
With a pencil and tape on,
Don’t bow to his menacing look:
Keep your capon!

Well may he astound you,
But don’t let him bug
And disturb and confound you:
He’s only a mug!

If a timer and mutions
Is gauging your work
When you use the ablutions,
Don’t rush like a jerk,

Go about it unhurried,
He’s clocking your crap!
How can favour be curried
With such a prize sap?

Well may he astound you,
But don’t let him bug
And disturb and confound you:
He’s only a mug!

As too the conductor
Who says: “Pay your fare!”
And the hostess who tells you
To fasten your belt,

And every inspector,
And all bureaucrats,
Because you’re the elector,
While they’re only prats.

The bullies who push
You around as they will:
What’s up with you, mush,
Does it give you a thrill?

Or a hard-on, orgasm?
How ’bout you, old girl?
Does it tickle your chasm
To act like a churl?

If they’re feeling uptight
You’re the cat they all kick,
When you see them in that light
They sure make you sick.

So let them astound you,
But don’t let them bug
And disturb and confound you:
Don’t you be a mug!

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