i don’t drink, i say,
oh, so what are you Mr. Nice Guy?
neither do i smoke i retort,
nor do i fancy bums shaking around me,
they wonder and humiliate,
try to asunder my esteem,
it’s friday nine p.m,
campus rowdy like it’s closing time,
no it’s time to rave,
get high than a horse on high heels,
time to start breaking bones,
bones, no, not bones alone,
breaking condoms, virginity and bottles,
breaking speakers with music blaring,
oh and the drill is usual,
and obviously well understood,
girl and boy go out ahem,
boy buys the rounds,
girl hangs around,
so that’s the cool thing?
that defines a real guy here?
i’ve refused to do as the Romans do,
and here i am, right?
squarely in the middle of Rome,
complaining no, campaigning yes,
campaigning for morality,
or maybe morality is just,
simply an attitude we adopt,
towards people we personally dislike.