How to Murder a Man (In 3 Acts)

The count of culture is sulking
We cannot be held responsible
Sociopath of logical liers invented the wheel
In which they run
In scholarly circles

To greater noodle psychology
With Japanese on his t-shirt
Salvation army and beetle boots starting to peel
As if they shrink

On the third glass of wine
She said your not mine
Not to speak
To seek my point

I sell my voice

Some houses
Lots of trees
On mass patches of land

Notice some flowers
And stationaries
It's how to murder a man

But I feel better today
It's the end almost
I am guessing