The Moon Will Kick Your Ass

The moon will kick your ass.

Them’s the breaks kid, oh, you better believe that them’s the breaks.
Go ahead and shake, kid, believe you me; make no mistake.
That moon up yonder, yonder moon may seem a whimsical plaything
But believe me, kid, that’s no balloon
Whose beams yonder hills are bathing

Does that look like the face of a kindly old gent peering out of yonder moon?
That’s not the visage of your sweet grandpapa come to sing you to dreams in your room
You’d best be awake if he climbs down
That clouded stair from star to ground
To bedevil your heart and kick you around
Kid, that’s the way the moon cheese crumbles. (Cough)

He’s pocked with craters deep and wide
Filled with umbral shadow
That’s where sinister moon goons hide
Watch out for them, me laddo

They’ll toss you like a wayward tide
If I were you I’d cower inside
It’ll feel like that Coney Island ride
That gives you whiplash, but with werewolves.

So let moon-eyed lovers rhapsodize
Let troubadours croon lullabies
About old man moon, but kid, get wise:
The moon will kick your ass.
Now off to bed. No, you can’t have a sugar cookie. Sweet dreams.


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