A Lapdog - Momus

Powerless, with my talk of Guy Debord and Gide

To rival a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog

I sent you to Antarctica, I’m very sorry now

I sensed that I could only mean a thing to you

If I could somehow be a lapdog too

But to send you to Antarctica to face your certain death

Was a very, very heartless thing to do

You’re wearing your pink flip flops

You tell me in your letter

You like the friendly crunch they make

On the snow, even though there’s horrible weather

You’ve brought your lapdog with you

It pokes its head out of your coat

The animal looks undeniably cute

With a little bark rising up in its throat

But penguins won’t stop following you

They march in a long black line

It’s menacing and sinister

And soon it will be night-time

And the Situationists loom very small indeed

Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog

Perhaps if they loomed smaller they’d be cute enough to love

And maybe someday I could mean something to you

If I could somehow be a lapdog too

So do people flirt and laugh, are they photographing you?

If there were anybody there I’m sure they would do

But the last time you looked down to pat your lapdog’s tiny head

Its little eyes were frozen, it was dead

And penguins won’t stop following you

They march in a long black line

It’s menacing and sinister

And soon it will be night-time

The Situationists and me loom very small indeed

Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog

Perhaps if we were dumb and small enough

We’d become worthy of your love