Lord, deliver us from the Boomers
Though they toss and turn
And throw their own feces about,
Give us the strength to dodge
Said thrown feces,
Also, give us a giant broom,
A wastebasket,
And a pacifier,
To aid in the cleaning of their mess.
What a hellscape they left,
An endless land of desert and dust
Where the sun doth shine
On every corner and crevice,
Where only the rats,
Roaches,
And reptiles roam.
They had theirs, and now we will have ours,
And ours is the refuse they have left on our doorstep.
Thanks a lot, guys.
But do me this pittance,
And never bitch about Millennials again.
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