Mr. Faux Pas
Mr. faux pas needs no introduction, because he introduces himself at the flip of a coin
There’s no chance for an awkward silence cause his motor mouth never stops.
Conversation pocketed with landmines, embarrassing moments ensue
Your most fair minded sensibilities are under attack when he opens his mouth and let’s loose on this unsuspecting world.
He’s got adhd and even he knows he should be taking his meds
He’s the social equivalent of a bull in a China shop
He wears military gear to tea parties; chagrin is served as hors d'oeuvres
Showers are optional; his mannerisms are optimal for causing women to faint.
The only game he’s got is chutes and ladders
Sparse facial hair offending, he’s almost never suspending disbelief
Of all the endless bullshit flowing from his erroneous mouth
He’s a genetic disaster…the result of millions of years of reverse evolution
You can do a swan dive off the slope of his forehead
He loves three things in this world: fast cars, fast guns, and fat women.
Decadence to him is a butchered hair cut, a mason jar of moonshine, and a slab of beef
By all accounts he was raised by a wild herd of rabid goats in North Carolina
He beams with southern pride and dismantles any Yankees who scoff at his heritage.
He’s got a PHD in bullshit-ology and a master’s degree in kickin ass
Despite his flaws and limitations he’s still my friend
I got his back, for you see he’s a simple man with a simple plan
To take on all comers, in an endless bout he is the champion
Insecurities are a mystery to him as he blunders off into the unknown
Copyright Adam Gaile 2012
There’s no chance for an awkward silence cause his motor mouth never stops.
Conversation pocketed with landmines, embarrassing moments ensue
Your most fair minded sensibilities are under attack when he opens his mouth and let’s loose on this unsuspecting world.
He’s got adhd and even he knows he should be taking his meds
He’s the social equivalent of a bull in a China shop
He wears military gear to tea parties; chagrin is served as hors d'oeuvres
Showers are optional; his mannerisms are optimal for causing women to faint.
The only game he’s got is chutes and ladders
Sparse facial hair offending, he’s almost never suspending disbelief
Of all the endless bullshit flowing from his erroneous mouth
He’s a genetic disaster…the result of millions of years of reverse evolution
You can do a swan dive off the slope of his forehead
He loves three things in this world: fast cars, fast guns, and fat women.
Decadence to him is a butchered hair cut, a mason jar of moonshine, and a slab of beef
By all accounts he was raised by a wild herd of rabid goats in North Carolina
He beams with southern pride and dismantles any Yankees who scoff at his heritage.
He’s got a PHD in bullshit-ology and a master’s degree in kickin ass
Despite his flaws and limitations he’s still my friend
I got his back, for you see he’s a simple man with a simple plan
To take on all comers, in an endless bout he is the champion
Insecurities are a mystery to him as he blunders off into the unknown
Copyright Adam Gaile 2012
No comments:
Post a Comment