The Arbitrary Song Epic

Scooby Doo, where are you??
Hiding someplace cold & blue?

Blue is the colour of my shirt,
Given to me by my friend Kurt.

Kurt is a rich kid,I wish I could be..
Have a 100 maids to pamper me.

I guess so many maids would cost a lot,
If I spend so much,at least they should be hot!!

Hot is the feeling, when I stare at the sun,
As I play in the sea,on its beaches I run.

I run so fast,my ears heed the winds cajole,
As a paper would plead to a scissor cutting across its soul.

Soul is a meta-physical notion,faith in it I have less,
Buy the higher thoughts,you will turn into a mess.

Mess food sucks big time,
To eat there is a crime.

Crime has busted all barriers,ubiquitous are murders & rapes.
The media sells it all. Sex, lies and video tapes.

Video tape is what we got, in a course review,
Saw it in the garbage last week,untouched & new.

New things, I debate.
Will turn old,them you'll hate.

I hate adolescence,
Full of ignorance.

Ignorance is bliss,
Like yr eyes closed n a kiss.

Kiss is a gift, the best I can surmise.
Rips thru your body, the feel of paradise.

Paradise, the pub in Goa, made us furious,
The chicks were pathetic,the booze was spurious.

Spurious are we all, for spurious is life,
Wife to husband, husband to wife.

A wife is what I need,hugs me when I come from work.
Spend holidays watching a Sony,& driving in a Merc.

A Merc would be nice, we'll make love in our garage,
Better I think of a Maruti & stop chasing a mirage.

A mirage is an illusion that will come true,
If you work hard for yr dreams & have the man in you.

The man in you is the man that you fear,
You'll discover the bitter truth,more when he's near.

Near lived the bombshell, who drove in a jeep,
We tried jumping over her mansion walls,at least have a peep.

Peeping Toms are dicks,
With their uncontrollable pricks.

Pricks nothing more than have your love betray,
Leaves you blind in the uncertainty of darness & dismay.

Dismay is perennial, like the air you consume,
Happiness is a rarity,like the sweet smell of perfume.

Perfumes are expensive,I can't ever come to terms,
Ain't it just water mixed with shitty chemicals & germs.

Germs are so dirty,
Most girls these days are flirty.

Flirty was our Maths Teacher,
A bloody non-practising preacher.

A preacher is a pig, if he can't practice what he preaches.
They infest your mind, parasitic like the leeches.

To crush a leech is cool.
A motionless friggin' fool.

Fool is our professor,an arrogant but naive ass,
Busy teaching crap,whilst I pen poems in class.

Class is permanent we hear, and temporary is form.
When shall we see Ganguly's class?I doubt he'll ever perform.

But perform I will,the turtle will win the race you see,
Pass out of my college,with a sweet gal and a shining degree.

Degree is so easy to gauge,wonder why bbc weather uses farenheit,
Why can't the world use just one single unit, why such great divide?

Divide to rule did the kings,
Learnt in school these things.

Things is what we have become, mechanical & lifeless,
Lead lives devoid of warm ease,& one gorged with cold stress.

Stress busting has become a business these days,
Spend cash & to bash it you'll find a million new ways.

Ways to get girls,I've heard are thosands & many,
None of 'em worked for me,I wonder.For you,did any??

Any soul would do,long for a caring careless chum,
Spend the day watching clouds n chewing gum.


(In complete.To be continued)