parrot

Parrot

I wanted a red parrot, the kind that really talked.
The one the pet shop sold me just occasionally squawked,
So I persevered daily to teach the bastard words,
Now he runs my phone bill up, chatting to his birds.

Then one night I found my driveway strewn with flashy cars,
And that bastard in my armchair smoking my cigars,
The house was full of women,the party in full swing,
And that little feathered fuck had a chick under each wing.

Then packages arrived,it happened all the time.
Designer clothes and furniture that the bird had bought online,
He'd become a big celebrity, we had press out in my yard,
And to fund his lavish lifestyle he'd used my credit card.

My life was now in tatters, the bird had gone too far,
I had to walk to work cos he'd commandered my car,
I knew I had to finish him, and planned it in my head,
I'd rush home after work that night and shoot the bastard dead.

The police were there when I arrived the parrot on the run,
They arrested me for petty depts and possession of a gun
To pay the depts the bastard left I had to sell my home,
Now I hear he lives in hollywood and has a chat show of his own.