The Super-Transition from Head to Dead!


Don’t listen to that

It’s all bogus bunk

But Bill will bite the bone

Built in a box filled with brine

A bit like a palace

That was a change

When an egg walks in

He takes a seat

He crosses his legs

You’re offended by the bastard

Can you believe it?

The nerve!

But you do nothing

“It’s an egg – I understand”

The egg smiles with smooth shininess

“Yes, my soul shines like the yoke

Deep within my gut.

Mind if I smoke a cigar?”

It’s my smoke-free home, but go ahead

When you die of smoke inhalation,

I’ll be the one to scramble you.

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