They say I may
have a substance dependency,
I believe they're wrong, my friends!
  You see:
'P. Crowley' is simply a figment
  of my innermost imagination.
  And he writes so much more diligent
-ly when my mind is in elevation,
  puffing upon pipes.. rather high!
Why, in the hell, would I-
push halt to his inspiration?
  --
Not worrying about when he will die,
he cracks a cold beer.
Isn't it national beer day?
Cheers.
  --
Oh, how I wish the Wednesday Woes
would whisper (Not yell!) & pass.
All I wish to do, Lord only knows,
is lie motionless in the Thursday grass.