James Merchant

Our city spires tickle tourists' fancies
All stained glass windows and dusty Christian books
The little villains come sing sea shanties
While simultaneously giving us suspiciously sober looks

Our smiles annoy spoilt pleasure seekers
Our clubs have never seen the glow of a strobe light
And while my social life is getting weaker
They have the audacity to pick with me a drunken fight

Their fists are not used to striking someone in the face
From where they are it must not be commonplace
They nurse their knuckles while I treat them to a bloody smile
But the instinct kicks off, and I'm sent a caterpillar's mile

Our girls always distract their one-way minds
And we usually disagree with their half-faced pursuits
Our alcohol is all used up by the no-good kinds
The kind that show up for a night then leave town too soon

Our rules are broken like my top row of teeth
When I attempted to make them apologize to my sister
They called her 'a slut', so I broke the peace
Like this asshole's nose, such an impolite visitor