My reply to your redundancy
Well, I guess you told me, And you did it using big words too, So I’d hear your Ph.D Ringing in my ears — The clank clank clank Of the educated elite.
So many letters later And your name is Still a simple one, As is your character That floats on top of my mind Like pieces of cork In cheap wine.
I’m so glad you’re rich And feeling successful, Changing the world One decibel at a time.
I can’t help but remember That two hundred Bucks you owe me; But, hey, what’s money Between old friends?
Yeah, you’ve come a long way; You told me how you’ve Grown and matured And now you’re untouchable Because you’ve got half of the Alphabet following you Around town.
I read your e-mail, and when I got offline I rushed to Roy’s Discount City To buy a dictionary; I couldn’t wait to look up Half of what You said to me.
After deciphering your Rhetorical code, I realized that I had Just wasted another $2.98.
Webster and I agree — Words don’t make the man Or the woman.
So, here’s to you And your savoir faire, Enjoy your stay With the other suits, Wallstreet Wannabees, And Intellectual Masturbators…
As for me … I’m just gonna drink my Cheap wine And watch out for Those Annoying, Bobbing, Floating, Little pieces of Cork.