Tuesday, August 4, 2009

ODE TO MYSTERY NOVELS

(sing during 7th year of sentence stretch)

Take me out with an Uzi,
Take me out with a Glock,
Hack me to bits with a butcher knife;
When I am dead, go and strangle your wife,
And then root, root, root for some toadstools;
Cook and serve to your kin;
Oh, it's one, two, three bowls, they're out
As the cops come in.

Take me out with curare,
Take my life with a dart
Blown through a large plastic drinking straw;
No one will see that you're breaking the law,
And then wipe your prints from the plastic;
Hide the evidence well,
Or it's one, two, three years to life
In a prison cell.

(apologies to baseball fans like myself)

Peace,
Elena

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