We look too cavalier.
This feather in my cap
Tells me that I'm one step away from
Challenging God Himself.
May He strike me dead before I
Yes, we're much too cavalier for
Our own good.
You're convinced that your shit
Smells like daisies. Yellow ones.
The Musketeers won't take us;
We can't even take us.
We are full of ourselves (and cavalier).
No honor, no loyalty, no chance.
I'm looking for a fight
You're bedding anything with garters.
The smugness we share makes for a
Good long hanging. . . if only that's all