The Ballad of Gluttony - Wrath (Patreon)

 The warrior sin was a terror named WRATH 

Who would slay fifty men for the blood for her bath 

Six feet at the shoulder and chiseled with muscle— 

Until Gluttony cooked up a fattening hustle.

For the best way to bring on WRATH’s wrath, pure and strong, 

Is to tell her that something she wants is now wrong— 

Then she’ll do it for spite, in a pure righteous rage 

Her frenzy for freedom becoming her cage.

So Gluttony just gave her someone to hate— 

Told her hippies were stealing the food off her plate. 

And WRATH’s enemy now is the presence of laws 

That put taxes on beef and forbid plastic straws.

So she eats until fast food comes out of her ears 

And downs more in one meal than she has in five years 

Then she sucks down ten gallons of cold soda pop 

Just to spite everybody who wants her to stop.

And though her slender body has been supersized— 

Though she’s honestly sick now of burgers and fries— 

Though it’s wrecking her waistline and doubling her chin— 

If she stops eating now, then those peaceniks will win!

So from restaurant to restaurant she trundles and tromps 

Leaving huge carbon footprints wherever she stomps. 

But there’s one print she makes that’s much bigger, alas— 

The vast carbon butt-print that’s left by her ass.