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All but the beer that's wrong
by Lori K. Barbeau

Grab a pint and pop the top and swing it to your lips!
Oh, swing it high and swig it long,
'cuz these are the words, the words, the words
'bout all but the beer that's wrong.

I'm an American Christian, I've grown a thick hide.
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-lee.
Like rhino armor, leath'ry and dry,
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-lee.
It shields me from the world of pain
and widens the path I trod,
where all I need is one more buck
to bless myself from God. Hey!

Grab a pint and pop the top and swing it to your lips!
Oh, swing it high and swig it long,
'cuz these are the words, the words, the words
'bout all but the beer that's wrong.

Lost my job six months before.
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-lie.
Gave me the boot and now I'm poor.
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-lie.
Pastor blurted a platitude,
"Be happy in your trials!"
But not even Cam'ron had the nerve
for Titanic deaths with smiles.

Ho! Grab a pint and pop the top and swing it to your lips!
Oh, swing it high and swig it long,
'cuz these are the words, the words, the words
'bout all but the beer that's wrong.

My Burmese brothers and sisters in Christ,
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-loo,
are shot in the back while fleeing at night.
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-loo.
Bible is open to love thy neighbor;
their blood is spattered on it.
From a heap of lifeless lips there comes
not a single happy sonnet.

I'm blind as a bat and can't quite see,
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-low,
why it happens if it's meant to be.
Tra-la-tra-la-tra-low.
What a shitty excuse for a holocaust
or jailing the Black brother.
'Cuz I'm pretty sure that God once said,
"You're responsible for each other."

Hey! Grab a pint and pop the top and swing it to your lips!
Oh, swing it high and swig it long,
'cuz these are the words, the words, the words
'bout all but the beer that's wrong,
'bout all but the beer that's wrong.



About the author:



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Midnight Picnic
a novel by
Nick Antosca

___________

The Suburban Swindle


More about The Suburban Swindle
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