Little Sod

Oh, they said that the girl
With the ivory curl
Was : "as precious as treasure," (in public)
And that hers was the world
But the way it unfurled
Was to cull a bairn hurled
So precocious, in measure, of their trick

Little Sod is dreaming
Little Sod is screaming
Little Sod is scheming
Diff'rent ways to punch YOUR lights out

Little Sod is sighing
Little Sod is crying
Little Sod is buying
One way tickets through to next week

"Oh, Sweet Brother," she plied
On the day that he died
"Do not fear that I'll fail to avenge you
For we're both of an eye
That will seer the dark sky
Steer us where angels vie
For to cheer then re-rail and unSINge you."

Little Sod is mumbling
Little Sod is tumbling
Little Sod is bumjling
In valid springers-up of tears

Little Sod is jotting
Little Sod is snotting
Little Sod is plotting
Beds for ill-at-ease memories

Oh, now she is fifteen
And the horrors she's been
In the hurricane worry can render
Wrought her into the bind
Of vacating her mind
Caught, acurs?d and pined
In the flurry of Sully's agenda

Little Sod ! Little Sod ! Little Sod !
Steaming Dying Humbling Rotting

Oh, they say that the girl
With the ivory curl
Can't de-mud the infanticide hurdle
No vision was keener
To be her soul's cleaner ;
This ruptured redeemer
Made the blood of the Anti-Christ curdle