The Fall of Mr. Fifths

Just another Sunday Paddle-boat ride on a man-made lake With another lady stranger If I remain lost and die on a cross At least I wasn't born in a manger I can sense somewhere right Now I'm being prayed for Seems like I always arrive On the same shore From where my sails set Maybe with one less lady Than my vessel left with Is that a threat? Oh, I've stayed scarce This past year, yes But be assured in unrest I'm unavoidable like death This Christmas, is this twisted? Why be upset? I never said I didn't have syphilis Miss Listless hard like the Bricks I pound my fists with I mean, she's hard like the bricks That I pound with my fists This is the fall of Mr. Fifths Forged for the hordes And the ladies and lords Set with fat chords In modern English I know, I know There's nothing more appealing Than the sound of high heels Down the marble tile hallways Of your districts one alloted City-funded Steiner school Bilingual or Montessori Followed by a single High-pitched scream Followed by breaking glass But could your anger be mapped Into an interpretive dance To a trip-hop track? Could it be Bowed out on strings Or strung into a pattern for a God's eye to bring To your alma-mater's holiday Fundraiser boutique thing? Look at that Whoa OK, I'm sorry I'm just being crazy I'm sorry I'm just being crazy, I know I'm paying attention to the aircraft I'm fine Everything's totally fine Feel lot better now