The grass is growing again, all over the place,
Cutting it is madness, what an energy waste.
Still I’m starting with it, let’s start that machinery,
And plotting a sweet revenge for nature’s fuckery!
And in mad rage there is another comforting thought,
Once I finished my lawn, get to the neighbour’s yard and roll.
All those pretty flowers, he nourished with such care,
Could look really fun, lying headless elsewhere.