Going down the highway,
Going eighty-four,
Alexandered cut a second wind gasser
And it blew me, DTC, out the door!
The engine, it exploded,
The chassis fell apart,
All because of Alexander's
Supersonic stinking fart!
ALso, there may be some misunderstanding as regards wages.
My staff pay me for the privilege of working here. I do not pay them. I am an aristo, after all and we pay for nothing. (That's how we stay rich, heh heh heh)
The irony of a friend you cannot talk to
The strange redemption you seek in others
Why friends can be so cold and thoughtless
I like to rely on irony as it never seems to fail
If there was a god out there
Lady Alex would hear me squirm and wail
I fail to see the irony in the same old routine
Wake up just to be let down
By Irony and her friends