O.C. Bearheart

One Last Baked Good

Happy new year!

I got the venom,
You got the cure,
Let’s go bake a pie.
But only after we’re both quite sure
We’re ready to eat it,
To eat it and die.
Apples or cherries,
Leave the pits, leave the core
Take second helpings,
Go have some more
And make sure that pie
Baked to golden brown,
Does its job right
And puts us in the ground.
And our bodies will rot
Yeah they’ll fertilize daisies;
Wipe the tears from our loved ones
Grow a fucking oasis.
It won’t matter to you or to me,
We’ll be dead in the ground
Growing up into trees
Until apples and cherries
Are ready to take
And to pluck and to bake
Into pies.
Surprise.
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