Old Romantic

In summertime, in sunny weather
On a remote, golden beach
My sins did gather together
To invite me to a feast

Pickled limes, fried legumes
With buttered pineal gland
No table, no plate, no spoon
The food thrown down in the sand

My hate picked up a fiddle
Hypocrisy began to clap
The rest danced and sang a little
Even though he played like crap

The main course was my lovely wife
They cut and pissed upon her
They offered me the biggest slice
For I was the guest of honor

With the dinner done, they'd had their fun
And almost nothing left of me
They left the food to rot in the sun
And laughing, led me to the sea