A Lapdog

Powerless, with my talk of Guy Debord and Gide
 To rival a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog
 I sent you to Antarctica, I'm very sorry now
 I sensed that I could only mean a thing to you
 If I could somehow be a lapdog too
 But to send you to Antarctica to face your certain death
 Was a very, very heartless thing to do
 You're wearing your pink flip-flops
 You tell me in your letter
 You like the friendly crunch they make
 On the snow, even though there's horrible weather
 You've brought your lapdog with you
 It pokes its head out of your coat
 The animal looks undeniably cute
 With a little bark rising up in its throat
 But penguins won't stop following you
 They march in a long black line
 It's menacing and sinister
 And soon it will be night-time
 And the Situationists loom very small indeed
 Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog
 Perhaps if they loomed smaller they'd be cute enough to love
 And maybe someday I could mean something to you
 If I could somehow be a lapdog too
 So do people flirt and laugh, are they photographing you?
 If there were anybody there I'm sure they would do
 But the last time you looked down to pat your lapdog's tiny head
 Its little eyes were frozen, it was dead
 And penguins won't stop following you
 They march in a long black line
 It's menacing and sinister
 And soon it will be night-time
 The Situationists and me loom very small indeed
 Alongside a chihuahua or some other breed of lapdog
 Perhaps if we were dumb and small enough
 We'd become worthy of your love