Leave him be and let snoring be his tune. We can hope he falls into a coma. On this planet, he’s a melanoma.
You take him too seriously, I’m afraid. When all he does is get drunk and get laid.
I don’t care that he drinks himself blotto While pretending to pray in a grotto. It’s when he claims that his frivolities Are the result of innate qualities That I want to drag him from this gilded cage And make him live on our pay, minimum wage.