The D.D.M

The D.D.M
.........

Ah am a brain in search of cells
Brain-trusting
Think-tanking
Drilling for info
Sand walls collapsing
The cat is falling...
Down deepest wells

Got a bro wrote the D.D.M
During troubles
His wallet swells
He's part establishment
Works at Department
Of Disaster Management
Anger is his forte
But he could put a sheen
On the most dubious thing
Rusty relic or even jalopy:
A cranky groaning rust machine.
Could take shite
Make it clean
And when it comes to war
His door is open
For others with trouble coping.

He'll have his offer in.
Could sell sides of beef and gravy
to a vegan
Or an Easter Bunny Jesus
To a Pagan!
Could unite Pope and Queen
He's so squeaky clean
He's an investor
In the middle way
Could sell chocolate covered cotton balls
To thirsty hungry farmers in shopping malls
To the richest dithering dudes and and dolls.
Invests in futures
Mainly indulgences
Sees the cash in sin.

With some spin he could build anything.
If heaven's got some silver lining
He'll be dining there
Looks for gold for mining
And he'll be drilling
With his overflowing pockets
And if you're willing
He'll have it spilling your way
He'll be whistling
"I did it my way."
Either his way - or
The highway.

(written March 4th 2009)