Thursday, August 6, 2009

Prednisone Crunching

(to the Dave Matthews song Ants Marching)

I wake up every morning
Coffee drink and I think something’s wrong here
Cos I can’t smell a thing
The drink ends, torture begins
Me thinks
I can’t taste, so why bother
How this sense leaves me wanting an auger
To make a hole in my head
Maybe smells will begin to now seep in

How I long for my lovely
She cooks so well, oh those smells
I can’t smell them
Wonderful and wafting air
Waiting for the day I’ll start tasting

Take these steroids
This leads me to a place where there are no dieting ties
Wolf down, it’s tasting time.

Oh, I long for my lovely
She cooks so well, oh those smells
I can’t smell them
Wonderful and wafting air
Waiting for the day I’ll start tasting

Bitter pills that I take now
They make me smell, make me taste every thing, Wow
Senses combing directions
The nose engaged
The senses engaging

And all the Prednisone I’m crunching
Good and bad, they help my munching
I begin to smell things
I begin to taste things, hey!

I can smell the cat litter box and it
Stinks of stuff that I’d rather not sniff
Rounder face is a side effect
Chit chat, chit chat, can’t stop
Mind too quick, watch what I begin to say.
What, what, what, what

Take these steroids
This leads me to a place where there are no dieting ties
Wolf down, it’s tasting time.
.
©2009 Warren Baker
.

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