A Drunken Rant

Oh, you say you love me; is it true?
The sky, it appears, is blue; is it blue?
I lived a long life without a damn clue,
If ever I find God anywhere, I’ll sue.
Methinks, it’s the devil I better pursue
Quash holy water, foment the devil’s brew
Go and pick a gang of disgruntled crew
to steal the Dog Star its brilliant hue,
And garner the dawn’s glistening dew.
Live a lot dandy if all the knowledge I knew
and up from the sky get a bird’s-eye view,
Or obtain from the Mystic a divine cue,
Untaught, much anguish could soon ensue;
Maybe, put aside my search and quietly rue
At long last bid to the world my sad adieu!