Day Off
Tra
La,
Its
A
Holiday
For
All
The
Presidents
Who
Have
Gone
Away.
The
Dead
Are
Lumped
Into
A
Mass,
And
Those
Yet
Living
Deserve
A
Pass.
The
One
We
Have
Is
Mired
In
Grief
By
Thieves
We
Hired
To
Represent
The
Citizens
Righteous
Discontent.
A
Flock
Of
Crows
Are
Trading
Blows,
Poised
To
Fill
The
Lofty
Space
As
Guardian
Of
The
Human
Race.
Enjoy
The
Party
And
Your
Brand
Of
Bubbly
Booze,
Soon
Enough
We’ll
Have
To
Choose,
In
Hope
The
Bigger
Fool
Will
Lose.
Tra
La,
Its
A
Holiday
For
All
The
Presidents
Who
Have
Gone
Away.
The
Dead
Are
Lumped
Into
A
Mass,
And
Those
Yet
Living
Deserve
A
Pass.
The
One
We
Have
Is
Mired
In
Grief
By
Thieves
We
Hired
To
Represent
The
Citizens
Righteous
Discontent.
A
Flock
Of
Crows
Are
Trading
Blows,
Poised
To
Fill
The
Lofty
Space
As
Guardian
Of
The
Human
Race.
Enjoy
The
Party
And
Your
Brand
Of
Bubbly
Booze,
Soon
Enough
We’ll
Have
To
Choose,
In
Hope
The
Bigger
Fool
Will
Lose.
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