Don’t ask me what I think,
Or I might tell you the truth,
When what you really want
Is your opinion validated for you.
And if you whine and complain,
I’ll tell you to suck it up
And do something about it,
Because no one can but you.
Who am I to give advice, anyway?
I hop around on one foot,
With the other in my mouth.
My brain is slower than my tongue,
So my tongue thinks for itself.
If only my sharp wit
Would cut itself in two,
One half could control my mouth
And my foot could remain in my shoe.