When drawing up my will I need to think
About who's done me wrong or done me right;
To whom to leave the gold or leave the zinc,
While hoping that my choices start a fight.
Perhaps I lack the proper will intent
And should make all decisions out of love.
I shouldn’t use this document to vent
Especially if I hope to rise above.
But oh, I find it sweet to hold a grudge –
Not Christian-like or saintly, please, I know −
I have some faults from which I will not budge.
I’ll take it up with Satan down below.
I may regret it, but right now I find
Sometimes it’s far more fun to be unkind.