The last pity party's
The talk of the town.
They'll have free pony rides
And a volunteer clown,
Recycled confetti
That's gray, tan and brown
At the last of the parties of pity.

The last pity party,
Who knows what's in store?
The cops are on standby,
They're guarding the door,
But peace and forgiving
Is what they implore
To the guests of the last pity party.

The last pity party
Has room for your kids,
And the ones left unclaimed
Will then be up for bids.
They'll be safe in barrels
With holes in the lids
As you party your last pity party.

At the last pity party
The food is all pale.
The juice is fermented,
The bread almost stale,
And people spend hours
Just chewing their kale.
No dessert at the last pity party.

The last pity party's
Not run of the mill.
The folk'll be swigging
The skankiest swill.
And will they be sick?
Nine out of ten will
As they exit the last pity party.

The last pity party!
The band will play soon.
They'll cover Frank Zappa
with strings out of tune
And the watchers will stomp
As they howl at the moon
While they ring in the last pity party.

The last pity party.
It's time to commence.
The moonbeams reflect
off the barbed wire fence.
Although I'm afraid,
I know I must hence
to the last. Pity. Party.