Death (after Villon)

Death, you is my woman now.
You is all that's left for me
since you snaffled Laura-Lee
leaving me to wonder how
life goes on. OK, I bow
to your every whim, but gee,
Death,
we is cruising for a row
if you dawdle aimlessly.
Move your ass! What's it to be,
Chicken Flu or Crazy Cow,
Death?

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