I'M ONLY MADE OF PARTS

Oil Man:
When an old man’s droolin’ spittle
And loose around the middle,
And with a worn out heart.
It’s because they keep exhumin’,
To the point that I’m inhuman,
And I’m only made of parts.

On a bender, I go mental,
I’m less than continental,
Disregarding life and art,
I defend the broken arrows,
As a boy I shot at sparrows,
Now I’m only made of parts.

For a fee, I’d drain the sea,
To pump the oil below…
Dubithy: Wherefore art thou, Conoco?
Oil Man: An oily teat… light and sweet!

Just to stop the drills transocean,
heresy, commotion,
I think I’d fall apart.
I say bung, I’m the skipper,
Are you shocked, a double dipper?
For a war I’ve got to start!