Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Manifesto

Sung to the tune of the Eagles' Desperado:


Manifesto, why don’t you come to your senses

You’ve been full of pretenses for so long now

Oh you’re a hard one

I know that you got your reasons

These words that are pleasin’ you

Don’t matter no how


Fancy sentences don’t impress judges boy

You know they’re just a fable

They’re wanted by a client you ain’t met

Now it seems to me award shows

Like the ones you see on cable

Leave you filled with nothin’ but regret


Manifesto, oh, you ain’t getting shorter

Cause it’s the first quarter, the budget’s approved

And creative, oh creative, well that’s just some people talkin’

Your prison is balkin' when good words are removed


Write a spot you’re proud of this time

Don’t squander it you’re in your prime

It’s the only way to get an increase in pay

You’ll have your highs and lows

Ain’t it funny how this assignment blows, cliché


Manifesto, why don’t you come to your senses

They’ve paid your expenses, go write something great

It’s now or never, a book piece is just what you’re needin’

You better stop your concedin’

You better stop your concedin’

You better stop your concedin’

Before it’s too late

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