Simple Rational Approximation -- Death of a Miser
Oh f of x,
Gravitation has its own logic,
Like the Wonder Swan which I never knew
Never finding that Hit Parade,
Only to fall for the Death of a Miser.
Oh f of my x,
oh function, what art thou?
How was it the Bishop had thee burned at the stake even before the Calculus was born?
Trembling bony fingers, the well worn rosary, blood spattered whips.
The great deceiver runs rampant across the beds and hides of the land, laughing in secret at the insanity wrought by his words.
Here a millionaire gives away every last penny to the poor,
To be ripped to shreds after they handed it all to the cocaine dealer and came back fiends for more.
Bloody dawn of Can't Buy Me Love, chocking on its own entrails, hoping in the last gasp for a glimpse of heaven, only to lose the light.
Death of a Miser? No, not this one, would that he were a miser he would still be living today.