You Just Can’t Polish a Turd

 

You can get your tan

From the spray-tan man

Known as Creosote Rod

He’ll rack up in his van

With his aerosol can

And spray you, like a bronzed god   

In paper kecks

And plastic goggles

A process most absurd

It’s not complex

The mind just boggles

You just can’t polish a turd

 

A Rottweiler in make-up

Is still that vicious dog

The metaphysical breakup

Of trying plat fog

You can grind its fangs

And cap its teeth

With crowns

And porcelain caps

But it all hangs

On what’s beneath

It’s down

To genes perhaps

 

You can dress a turd

In a Sunday bonnet

Or even sprinkle glitter on it

But a turd is a turd is a turd

 

The word on the street

Is a four letter word

And so I repeat

You can’t polish a turd

So hear what I say

Put your Brasso away

You just can’t polish a turd