by Ryan Nardi

Now, I can't sink, and I can't float.
I ain't got no water underneath my boat.
But I got a little rhythm and a worn out rhyme,
to keep me comp'ny while I'm doin' my time.

I got arrested, down at County Hall,
'cuz I pulled down my pants, and I pulled out my balls.
I told that judge he could lick 'em clean,
and he slapped in a cell for nine to seventeen.

So now I'm busted in the County Jail.
I ain't got no piss even if I had a pail.
I'm just disgusted, thirsty, and hungry too,
I got nothin' left but these old dirty blues.

(guitar solo)



Author's Note: Came up with this in the shower. Now, I have to put it to music.

Posted on 07/24/2008
Copyright © 2023 Ryan Nardi

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by A. Paige White on 07/24/08 at 06:11 PM

Oh yeah! You got more than a few guffaws out of me with this one. Great stuff! Folksy music? Thoroughly enjoyed this.

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