Hail St. Murphy, king of lies,
make my work confound the wise.
Hear my prayer in time of fear,
respond in ways both fickle and queer.
Worst that could happen when all’s on the line,
just when we think that everything’s fine.
Confounding men with things gone wrong,
raising dark monsters, laying low the strong.
Hear my prayer in need most dire,
call off your all consuming fire.
Avert your gaze from my efforts here,
for this must not fail, the cost would be dear.
The world would end, we’d all be sacked,
the rivers would flood, there’d be no going back.
So hear me St. Murphy, just this once,
let me go out with a bang, instead of a crunch.
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