Mark Bratlie

Come for cards, Mr. Jones?
Oh gee, I think not
See, my dog's due for puppies
And I'd better stay put

Piles of put-downs
All in good fun
Each with its weight
My spirit is hung

Just a few friendly hands?
Oh gee, let me check
I've been gone for a week
And my house is a wreck

Drinking and humor
Both smell of sewer
Refreshing laughs
Get fewer and fewer

Where's my hair, Mr. Jones?
Oh gee, I misplaced it
But to show I'm a man
I'll say hell, damn, and shit

A friend is called pussy
The game is called guts
You'll bump with a bluff
If you've got any nuts

We'll play for low stakes?
Of that I'm not sure
What's really important
Soon becomes quite a blur

Out into the pot
The money is pouring
But the game in a rut
Is really quite boring

A night out with the boys?
Oh gee, I can't make it
(If my dog won't have puppies
I'll get her to fake it)