I cut and I cut ... and I cut grass some more,
But the dandy-weeds laugh at my body -- so sore.
Why won't the dandy-weeds get chopped and die?
'Cuz my lawnmower blade's as soft as a fresh Wendy's fry.
Could it be true? Must I mow again?
Or does "controlled burn" mean anything but jail time with "Ken"?
This isn't so great, as most great things go;
It's about as lame as 16 candles atop old escargot.
Woe is me, woe to the tenth power, woe my aching back.
This 2.3 horsepower ain't worth a horse's "intestinal contribution".
But with music so old, cassette tapes so -- [stop wrinkling on me, you ancient machine!] -- divine,
My cassette player and I warble to the beat of 1999.
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