Nothing people fill up trains. When it rains they all complain. Too cold? Turn up the heat! Too hot? Fan yourself in your sweaty seat. Chew your gum and play with gadgets, You overprivileged wastes of space, You abysmally stupid middle men, You perfect examples of the human race.
I, the worst offender, That’s the certain rub of it. That’s the biting truth I can’t ignore it anymore, It’s taken me by force. My heart cannot divorce nor tolerate This much remorse; there’s no recourse.
I’m a total slacker, pork roll packer, Trotters stained by the filthy trough, Of economic slavery. Lord, save me A grande serve of bacon rolls. My piggy paunch dressed to the nines, Drop me off at ancient atolls strung with lights. It is, you know, My God forsaken Australian right.