Inchcocks Odes to Why? Part Two

♫ Why does my heart go on beating? ♫

♫ Why does the sun go on shining,
Why does the sea rush to shore,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
‘Cause, she doesn’t love me anymore, Yes…
Why do the birds go on singing,
Why do the stars glow above,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love…
I wake up in the mornin’, and I ponder,
Why sod all is the same as it was…
I can’t understand; no, I can’t understand
How life goes as crappy as it does…
Why does my mechanical heart go on beating?
Why are these eyes of mine fading,
Don’t they know it’s the end of the world,
It ended when you said, “Sod-off, goodbye!”
I often wonder, apart from Little Inchie, why? ♫

Why Am I So Soft & Gullible?

Even as a young man, I was presentable…
But, I’ve always been jealous and resentful,
Gals thought I was a standby rather than a desirable…
But my wallet was in demand… and easily emptiable!
My heartstrings were unendingly detachable!
Why these failures? It is seemingly not diagnoseable.

My hopes and dreams were terribly squashable,
I’ve always been a soft touch and deceivable…
Looking back, I find it hardly believable…
I’ve gone from cute and cuddlable,
To a failure, always, who’s always defeatable!

Thus, it must have been in my past life…
I must have lived a terrible life…
Not like this one full of strife…
Bet I was cruel, took many a wife…
I should come back a newt or other pondlife!

Why Are Liars, Usually Politicians?

Well, that’s obvious! To keep themselves out of trouble!
To save them from bursting their own financial bubble?
They overclaim all expenses by at least a tankful…
They welcome Covid cause there’s no time to be able…
For anyone to inspect their expenses table!

Why Have Aliens Not Landed Yet?

Oh, bejabbers, they may well have already; it’s verifiable!
They beam down airily…
So no spaceships to see,
So their landings are not watchable…
They interbred with the powerful, starting with Blair…
This may sound to you ununderstandable…
Their original plan was to make us all vilifiable!

Intending to use mind control, somnambulistically!
Naturally, they all mind-melt and speak multilingually,
They soon spotted how humans communicate clumsily…
Using missiles, tanks, napalm, and mercenary armies…
Killing ourselves off with starving… very silly!
We are killing ourselves off, although it will be bloody!

We tell our people not to smoke or use a narghilly…
Not to eat fatty or sweet food, willy-nilly…
We do have variability but very little tranquillity…
We intercommunicate bolshy, cruelly, not friendly?
We lie, mislead, cheat, mostly circumlocutorily,
Many aliens planet folks have visited Earth, spookily,
It’d be a lot more, counting the imaginary!

Why Are More People Going Potty?
Answer: Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras

Alto-Ego-Inchy: No doubt about the answer to this question…
But it’s a long one, which calls for honesty and a confession…
I’ve studied this query for years; it became an obsession,
Since the Roman invasion to England’s 1867–1869 recession
I was in the body of a chap called Adrian…
Wall builder, I think, a stonemason…

The effect of Alto-Egos, Id’s and Chakras, combined,
Control our allotted specimen, usually a human,
Occasionally a half and half, unknown, with a warped mind,
But we can handle and master humans, aliens of any kind.
I am the truth, reality… I rarely speak what’s on my mind…

We Alto Egos go on for years, the insane is our possession,
When the human snuff it, we move on to Sherlock Holmesian…
To torment another losing it, sad foccinaucinihilipilification,
Alto-Egos, Id’s, and Chakras rule we’re not Antichristian,
We are not Czechian, Australian, Midlothian or Arizonian!

We roam the Universe to torment the deserving,
Deserving meaning one demented, their mind flailing,
Fair enough, we do some deducing, defacing and coercing…
But only of the brain, physical problems are not out kind…
Like with Inchcock, no wonder he’s going out of his mind!
I’m actually getting to feel sorry for him, I find…
But don’t tell anyone, it’s a bit embarrassing…

We Three unknown, misunderstood missionaries, are King…
Humans will never understand us unless they are tripping,
Our tasks, as laid out for us, to stop anyone helping…
Give pain, frustration, depression with maintaining…
If noise bothers Inchcock, we make sure it is piercing!
If he leaves the tap running… this is called interfacing…
We keep him busy with something else; I can’t help laughing!
Then the hot water will be cold, so no showering…
Little things like this make out job so satisfying!

 I fang You!

Part of the Inchies: Make Them Laugh, In Ode Series.