At the Behest of Others

Nobody likes a copycat. Except the copyman.

Who copy, can. And copy, does. That man

Without a plan, copying with his sordid hands

Clearly coordinated paths. Insinuated can'ts lost

When the little devil on his shoulder in the body

Of a ram says listen copier, you can...you can!

They won't notice. They won't see,

You'll go down in history. A lovely little melody,

A tale of caution for the meek. The one that's been told,

On the whole,

A thousand times
Before.