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The tough-guy act has seen its last season As your eighth decade on this world arrives You thought you could bully love from your son True affection from tenderness derives You come around long enough to flash To abused children the money you stole The sorry truth is no amount of cash Can redeem you in your fatherly role I still contemplate your old age with dread Seeing no dilution of your poison You will be lethal till age one hundred A vicious bile yet driving your person I fear relief will come only with death The sad truth dawns with each year that passeth |
