A Real Cool Guy Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

Excuse me, mate, but you go to far
Driving around in your flash new car
As if you were some kind of Rock 'n Roll star!
Who the hell do you think you are?

You're full of drugs and testosterone
And you simply can't leave the girls alone,
You're always chatting to them on the phone
And you boast you can make them cry and moan!

You like to act like you're a real, cool guy,
You laugh at women when they cry,
But things will alter by and by,
Did no one tell you you're gonna die?

You're gonna rot in some cold, damp grave
And lose all the love your mother gave,
No one to comfort you, no one to save;
Yes! Everyone's laughing at the way you behave! !