Vera's Son - Aspects of Mr Jon Patrick

A detailed man who keeps things to a thousands of an inch
Who’s mother died young and harsh by cancers graze
With a fibbing sibling that’s acute as a broken light bulb
Mr Jon Patrick your heart is about to give out
The plates are engraved and the signs have been hung
It’s time to head home and go drink.
A godless man that has no time for mirth, can’t even lay down and just nap
Trust is a cost which he can’t afford, funds have grown quite dry
Reading the news and predicting its doom he always know when there’s dolor
He’s a workin Man’s poem of selfless dedication
But the powers are callous and they threw him with no remorse
Now he plays lottery and waits at the local coffee shop
Mr Jon Patrick Satire Is what your life’s about
Plastic has been cut perfectly squared, the sign man knows what’s plum
Sitting at home with contempt by his side hoodlums best be aware
Fable of a man aptitude broad accomplishments could’ve been boundless
But fate was vile and got the best of him
Now he will perish lonesome

Written by:
Don Dreste

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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