Hitler was an autocratic racist nut, they said,
Conan was a hooligan who'd strangle you in bed,
Vlad was a crazy psychopath who reveled in blood and strife.
I had to have been one of them in a former life.
A time my karma likes to hit is a night before a test;
It's always then that my alarm chooses to give me rest.
My teachers are mad sadists and unforgiving drones,
They'd probably run me down and over, ignore my dying moans.
I have a crazy stalker who thinks that he's my mate;
My hair always resembles snakes on the night of a big date.
My part-time boss smiles all the time, even when he yells,
The cashier there tries to sell me bogus creams and gels.
I burned my sleeve in Chem last week, my tuna lunch turned grey,
And my Never-Healing Ankle sprained again at Gym today.
I embarrass easily, I ramble in a rush,
A screaming fire engine hasn't a prayer against my blush.
I pour my woes out to my friends, who don't feel least bit sad,
They blame it on me being a klutz and on me being mad.
I get no sympathy from them, they just tell me to be strong.
When I escape away to Guam, like hell I'll take them along.
And now, I've walked into a guy and fallen on my bum.
Curse you, manic karma! You...oh bugger, you're Johnny Drumm!
"Why, hi, it's me, your future wife, you're looking fab today."
I'm glad that's what my traitorous mouth chose rightly not to say.
"I'm sorry, thank you, yes, I'm fine, did I give you a fright?
No? That's good...huh? Say what? Would I like to go out tonight?"
Looks like my luck's looking up!
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