The Prophet Obblonge - Libraries

Thousands of books have spilt their texts on me
In elementary, we were rewarded for keeping track of our tomes devoured
By the time I left in the middle of fourth grade at Lakewood Elementary, the institution
Had run out of awards to give me

I never attended kindergarten
According to the record sheets, in three and a half years I ingested over a thousand books
Almost all from the school or local Myrtle Beach Public Library
There was one other student who had done the same, a girl I had never seen before, I assume

Because we were both too busy reading to notice many other students in the halls
Upon arrival in Texas, this continued
Supplementing the public school libraries with the Church Public Library
My darling Patty recalls seeing me over the years there, spied from beanbags by the magazine

Racks
I would be busy doing homework in the four-square, walled desk by the sci-fi and horror paperbacks
I'll save the reader the details on this one, let's just say, she has been mischievous all
Her life

Stirrings inside from writing these words, gelatinous and terraforming
The head librarian at Schertz was a diminutive woman who would hum the Beatles' Eleanor Rigby
Every time she checked out the stack I presented, always the maximum to be devoured
The verse that starts Father McKenzie

This began before barcodes and laminated library cards, RFID tags
I would often help patrons find their quest in the aisles or at the card catalog
The Schertz Library is a different building now, multi-million dollar facility next to
The old one

If I'm not mistaken, I still owe them two or three dollars in late fees
I am not ever going to pay them, nothing personal
Standing out by the burn barrel and staring at the moon for one of the last times, I am
Flooded with these times

Patty's parents, old place next door, Pam and Prissy yelling at each other
Next time I get around internet, I'll be turning them into the child support division
If only I'd noticed her watching me from those beanbags so long ago, magazine coyly
Perched in front of face or hands

I'll be there soon, baby
Please, be alive when I get there
My teeth are hardy and sharp
I rend monsters' flesh voraciously and with malice

Written by:
Michael Mackenzie

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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