Ipso Facto
And all that rot—
Pure rubbish, if you will,
And then some, I suppose.
Follow the insane logic,
Yet it won’t get you closer
Than where you intend to go,
Before calling it a night.
And the morning is no better;
Don’t kid yourself, old man.
You’re a walking contradiction,
Despite denial after denial—
Not your strongest suit.
Take some friendly advice.
Play the king of spades,
Should it be the last card
Available in your hand.
Who’ll know the difference?
You’ve bluffed so often,
Even the joker hasn’t a clue.
Today your future holds
Empty pots of gold.
Silver bullets without linings.
Bronze shoes a size too small.
And tomorrow, ipso facto,
One regret after another.