The Postmodern Diddy

You say the world's past all epochs?
That the past can't be understood?
Maybe language is nothing but idioms,
And there's no such thing as good?

While you pace smugly in your tweed jacket,
Waving your book around like an ass
We call that "tootin' yer own horn" in my English,
Required reading in your own class?

For real? Your own fucking class? What a douche you've become!!!

But when I saw you last at Woodstock,
And the leather was more than a patch, A whole coat, even!
And we ate those sunshine blotters
Was it then that your idea was hatched?

Cause I made some flippant comments,
About the death of modern man.
I think I ridiculed Andy Warhol,
And his paintings of tin cans.

But it was all just drug-infused rantings,
I never declared hegemony dead!
And what the fuck does meta-history,
Have to do with what I said?

So don't forget this man,
Postmodernism was just a joke.
You were only supposed to laugh,
And pass along that toke.