120 lines
4.4 KiB
Plaintext
120 lines
4.4 KiB
Plaintext
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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####### ## ## ####### # # ## ## ####### #######
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## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ##
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[ Zula Betula ] [ By Cindy ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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(Zula Betula)
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My mother was a hippie
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in a time when they weren't en vogue.
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She lived in a part of the world
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that wasn't a safe abode.
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In Berlin, she stayed
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until the fall of the wall,
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when the hectic tidings of new freedom
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no longer beckoned her call.
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After which time she moved from the city
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to a place called Manchuria.
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She met my father, King Hotem of Totem,
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the royal legion of Nigeria.
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Together, they formed a legion of their own,
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work that made them slap-happy,
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and they called me Zula Betula Mabel
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the dapperest of the dapper-dappy.
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What dapper-dappy was,
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I never knew, until now.
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It seemed such a terribly arduous feat
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that pined across my brow
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to make some sense of a hippie's mind
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combined with a royal crown.
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But, they called me this thing for as long as I could tell
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when my ears had developed sense,
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and there wasn't a more dapper-dappy child,
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as was their pretense.
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They held high esteem to the fact of my being,
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that they had created my presence
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and, in return, I was thought of and for,
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regarded only for my silence.
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An experiment, it seemed, that had gone so far as
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to disallow a thought of my own
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until the fairest king of the kingdom came
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and crept up to his throne,
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beseeching my parents to show me to him
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and explain their feated life's work.
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They told him of all of the things I could do,
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how trained I was with a fork,
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the eloquent way in which I could sign
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and make funny-punnish jokes,
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measure, add, count, just so accurately,
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speak only whence I was spoke.
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In the middle of the act, that was carefully planned
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the king raised his hand to the court,
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and told them to cease and desist this study,
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as it was something to be abhorred.
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My parents looked stunned
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and shunned, as they were,
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that their breakthrough
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had broken their worth.
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All they had wished to achieve on this day
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was esteem in creating the perfect being.
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Without ever thinking, their thoughts mounted up
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and could count as the less spoken ills.
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Wishing is one thing to pass through your mind,
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but ethics are another thing, still.
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Nothing can be without flaw, it is said,
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and perfection is most flawed, of all.
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Disgrace, that a child be trained like a pet,
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a dog with tricks to be taught.
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Locked up, they were, the the worst cells of all,
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for ages and a day,
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but, I visited them just as much as I could
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and stayed as long as I could stay.
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When I got the 'okay' to think on my own,
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some research, I had to do
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on just what exactly a dapper-dappy girl was,
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and to this, I did conclude;
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it seems a dapper-dappy is a thing put into words
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that describes what I used to be;
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thoughtless because I was trained to be so,
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like the masses who follow one's lead,
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a person for whom with no respect of their own
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listens without questioning the source,
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only desires to be one of a group
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and takes the group's charted course.
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Ah...of course,
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I see it all now,
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ever since my eyes work for me...
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a dapper-dappy is one who's not himself
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and if you're not that, then,
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trust me,
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you're never happy.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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uXu #495 Underground eXperts United 1999 uXu #495
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Call Postcards From The Edge BBS -> telnet pfte.iirg.org
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