A Groan to Spring Cleaning
That I thought a flame-thrower would be best
To rid my apartment of the gunk and the grime
That has been collecting since around Christmas time
Walking barefoot can be dangerous you see
When your floor is covered with traps de booby
Stubbed toes and screams are all too common
When you are stuck dodging old bowls of Ramen
Throw back the curtains, the sunlight will reveal
Dust so thick that it looks like cornmeal
Covering everything I own like a blanket of snow
Making you sneeze so hard, your face could explode
My lips are chapped from not breathing through my nose
The stank smells of garlic, feet and dirty clothes
What animals lived here to produce such a stench?
A dog? A pig? Perhaps a rotting finch?
The meat has gotten furry, the cheese is now green
It’s a mold so strong, it’d put hair on Mr. Clean
The oven is covered in un-scrapeable sludge
Even Andre the Giant could not get it to budge
What can be done about a mess so immense?
We need something stronger than a scrub and a rinse
Bring on the steel wool and the green side of the sponge
We will need more than pop music to defeat this grunge
But try as we may, and try as we might
If we start cleaning now, we won’t finish tonight
Not even tomorrow, not even next week
A doctor is needed, the prognosis is bleak
We cannot go on this way, we must act fast
If we wish to survive the filth of our past
So we bust out the cleaners, the brooms and the mops
And start squeezing the zit and not stop til it pops
Dirt this dirty could mean certain death
We donned our armor, our yellow rubber gloves
And prayed to the gods in the sky up above
But the gods did not answer, in fact they laughed
Is mercy deserved by one who grows staph?
I fell to my knees and I let out a yelp
“Please, anyone, give me some help!”
And all of a sudden, a small fairy appeared
She said, “Hey dumbass, just drink a beer!”
“What do you mean?” I exclaimed in wonder
“Clean up your house like they do Down Under”
Heeding her advice, I cracked open a bottle
And poured it down my throat with a funnel and nozzle
And again and again ‘til I felt myself stumble
I was slurring my speech and beginning to mumble
With double-vision I was now seeing more clearly
And found the motivation I needed so dearly
With a beer in one hand and a stick in the other
I began killing roaches, their friends and their brothers
I swept crusty dishes into trash bags
And used dirty clothes as if they were rags
And any time I’d feel my energy diminish
I’d crack open in haste a frosty cold Guinness
For as long as I could fight off being sober
I could keep cleaning and not care when it’s over
Drinking and cleaning is a gift from heaven
Where daily chores get turned up to eleven
Then my friend stopped by for an unexpected visit
And exclaimed aloud when he saw I was not “with it”
“Oh my dear friend, what could be the meaning?”
With a burp and a groan I replied, “Spring Cleaning!”