Don’t Think I Don’t Know

It’s the craziest thing that
you think I don’t know
that you cover your tracks
and you let the wind blow
When just yesterday morning
you gave it away, that the thing
that you’re doing will not go away
And I know the secret, it’s not very
rare, to have what you’re doing
impregnate the air
with little, squirrel giblets all boiled
or stewed, all wrapped up with lying
and served in fondue.

He buried the evidence while it was hot, and I knew it.
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