Mood Musique Requires A Pledge of Resistance

If you’re anything like My Sherri

There’s nothing more upsetting to see

Than the cutting down of an innocent tree

My Sherri, My Sherri,

She ain’t yours, she ain’t yours

And to be honest with you

And either or

Neither nor

She also ain’t really ours


Bare bones are bare branches

Snowballs become avalanches

Leaves touched by lithe limbs

Huddle away to not be seen

For the light is becoming dim

If they are like gold

If they are like gold

Where do they go?

Where do they go?

Cold to the touch

Do you get out much?

Holed up in a hobbled together hutch

A polished gem thrown like a brick

An enema making your ass sick

Nature will win and all we have nurtured

Will turn around and just(ly) shrug to us


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