Gather 'round, boys, girls and children
I have a fable to read to you all
Our story begins on a warm summer's day
In a small tattered town, in a small tattered house
Where a small cat resided
Mainly in his bed
A sad cat rendered cold and withered by the whispers of his past actions
The cat lay alone in his tattered bed
Wondering... and pondering... his lonesome thoughts
They ask me, "Lausse
Why you never step a Nike out your house?
Why you always in the dark with lights but only at your snout?
Why we only see your carcass at a party when you're lit?
Or when you're out for rounds in town
To scout yourself another bitch?"
I said, I said "I don't see the point in gettin' dressed
I don't even see the point in gettin' breakfast if I'm honest
Some would say I fit the symptoms of depressed and alcoholic
But a smile's upon my face when I'm in bed and writin' sonnets
Maybe I'm just not the problem, but the world I walk upon
Where I live, the sun don't shine, or very little to my knowledge
All I see is battered people on the powder gettin' on it
Seems we live for fun but when it's done
We live for battered sausage
I don't wanna make my money doin' nothin' in an office
I don't wanna spend my money on a coffee or a bonnet
With a godly brand upon it
I ain't assed for livin' right
Get degrees and spend my life with what I've made from nine to five"
The cat decided to take a stroll through his local park
He likes that park (that's a very nice park)
And as he sat down on his favorite bench
A small girl in a blue dress came up to
Him and asked, "Why do you look so sad?"
The cat answered
Motor City, half-assed with the lights
Heavy hand with the pint glass and dance in the night
After half-past three when our time starts
Bark in a bystander tone with a fight and a scratch card
Life in Motor City ain't much
Grey skies lie here, and a couple Mecca Bingoes
Bin-ridden streets full of sin-ridden teens
With some dim-litten lights while the kitten doth feel low
Bystanders try pass the time
With a pint in their hand and some lines and a fiver
See more than four times a day the demise of a soul
Asking wide-eyed for change or a lighter
Life in this mess makes a heart numb
I ventured a quest to inspect why my heart's wrong
Backpack my way through the thrills of a young man
And fast foward with time and it seems that my heart's gone
"That sounds bloody awful" said the girl
"How on earth did you get to lose your heart?
I know a wizard, who lives on top of the hill over yonder
Maybe he can help you"