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I am a little worried that I haven't long to go
And I think heartfelt confession would be right.
My life has been a catalogue of sinful acts and so
Absolution's what I seek this last good night.

For, you see, I'm sort of flighty and a lightweight, truth be told;
Just a ne'er do well and pest is what I am.
Thoughtless, spineless, hedonistic, unproductive when it's cold,
Unhygienic when I'm near a pot of jam.

And I've noticed I'm not popular; a guest to ostracise,
Causing consternation, nastiness and bile
All because I might relieve myself upon a plate of pies;
Defecating whilst I’m gorging all the while.

I've frequented dirty places and I've revelled in the muck,
Over-eaten and then vomited with glee.
Now I find myself upon this web quite well and truly stuck,
With a spider looking hungrily at me  . . .

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.