Little Fishes

Mercury makes its way into
The skin of little fishes who
Swim across the vast and murky
Mucky, mud terrain
They make their way onto the dishes
Of men who gobble little fishes
As the mercury settles in
Their soft and supple brains
Gone are the days
Gone are the days
When you can stick your toes in without a second thought
Gone are the days
When you can get your mind wet without the fear of rot
Where did the Pillsbury Doughboy go wrong?
When did the blingy little weasels kill the protest song?
When will the youth get on its hind legs?
Is the Golden Goose laying 3D printed eggs?
When will the Easter Bunny come
And hop it all away?
Gone are the days
Gone are the days
When you didn’t need WiFi to help you find someone to kiss
Gone are the days
When your brand of genitalia would determine where to piss
Mr. Owl, he cheats to reach the center of the pop
Scarecrow, better hold your breath while Roundup’s being doused upon your crops
When will the youth get on its hind legs?
Is the Golden Goose still laying 3D printed eggs?
When will Ben Kenobi come
And saber it away?
Mercury makes its way into
The skin of little fishes who
Swim across the vast and murky
Mucky, mud terrain
They make their way onto the dishes
Of men who gobble little fishes
As the mercury settles in
Their soft and supple brains
Mercury makes its way into
The skin of little fishes who