A little boy watching television
'Batteries not included' influences his decision
On his new G.I. Joes
The T.V. he is staring at should be one of his greatest foes
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Clockportphobia is what they call my disease
Oh, I'm sorry; let me explain please
I can't think of the past
I might warp there oh so fast!
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Late last night or the night before
There was a man standing at my door
I didn't know who he was or what he was doing
For his breathing was as harsh as a possessed baby's cooing
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PART I
Oh... the alarm clock
The beeps are a mock
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My head hung low, crowd screaming around
Yelling as if they knew I was Hell-bound
They are all wrong, I am a martyr of my belief
If I die, would it really give you relief?
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There is one law in this land
But it can be destroyed easily like a castle in sand
Just one man it takes
And a whole new world awaits
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In times of fault, remember you are not real
I tell you this with great zeal
Nothing can hurt you, nothing at all
They are not, big, strong, short, or tall
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Why do you turn me away?
On such a beautiful day
I write this poem with grief
Letting it out with such a relief
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Thanksgiving Day... time to eat
Through the door will come many feet
But no... my disorder will defeat me well
And here comes another story to tell
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Deep sun-gaze, holes in her eyes
Water-logged theory, light to the flies
Dying relief, soon to scurry
My soul is burning, pass in a hurry
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