Campsite Rule

We all drift toward you like moths to a flame
After contact, you shift the assignment of blame

You say you're following the Campsite Rule
You hope you aren't being unusually cruel

"Always leave them the same or better..."

(Well, at least you gave me this sweater)

But all you really did was take a shit in the woods
Laid waste to the campsite and ransacked my goods

On top of that, Ol' Smokey the Bear
Blames the fire on us, claims we failed to take care

But we didn't start the fire
We're just park rangers for hire
Lacking your tendency to conspire
Even after you've earned our ire

A moth can't be trained
Any more than a flame
But when moth and flame kiss
Only one will persist