Peter Chapman Poetry


You yelled hey when your car wouldn't start
So you got real nervous and started to eat your heart out
Now you're so fat your shoes don't fit on your feat
You got trouble, and it's tailor made
Well mama lay your head down in the shade

'Cause your eyes are tired, and your feat are too
And you wish the world was as tired as you,
Well I'll write a letter, and I'll send it away
And put all the trouble in it you had today

Your telephone rang and you went "oh no"
You forgot about this, and you forgot about that
'Cause you got to get back to what you’re doing
Goodbye, click that, so and so
You're an island and on your own

You yelled hey when the stove blew up
Upset? why yes
And the footprints on your ceiling, they're almost gone
And you're wondering why?
Well mama lay your head down, don't you cry

Lowell George