Sticks

Yeah, I've got problems.

Damn right I've got problems.

You keep harping on me

About missing the point.

I'm the first to admit

I could be wrong.

Show me man,

I'll take my lumps.

But you are over there

And I am over here.

From where I stand

It's hard to see.

You talk so good

And say its me.

Come on strong.

Defend your turf.

I give ground

Until it hurts.

Win it all!

Professional pride.

Until death do us part!

If you hit me again,

You're going to eat those sticks!

My head hurts so bad.

I'm still licking my wounds.

You say those sticks were pointed?

Thank God,

I'm still alive.

October, 1980