stick to your guns, Kemosabe and i’m coming round the bend, meant—dead-set, on the trouble i protect; thinking, of course, of every little thing you took a dump atop the mountain—on the mountain path; and, indeed, that hap-pened, but if I said i felt bad about it, then i’d only make people angrier: apologetic on the inside, then, i make it up to you in droves,
my woman looks so happy—laughing up a storm, all amongst her extrovert corrections; makes me angry to see her like that - have a little respect; people aren’t ok, though they show You their best; the more you laugh the more you dull your edge, the hook that you connect
counting lorry after lorry, truck aghast
at the sight: nothingness can stop me,
so i prove it is not real; i seek a blast
from the abyss, shockwaves prove it me
i speak to my love; i know she is there
she cannot be, for starters, in disguise
the enemy will never find her elsewhere
and from there we would only surmise:
my true love, at one time, was victimized,
i don’t discredit what i broke, i keep
Him in my back pocket, we are apprised;
this man, for all of us, thinks of us asleep
dreaming up the story of all that we seek
comatose lover—they feel sorry for me
i lead them down a path, try to get a peek
of those that know what’s coming, happy
to respond: i take a dump atop the earth
i find us staggered by his idiocy,
knowing from the bulk that He’s worth
the antagonist of his, and every, parody
You stand the test of time—he is screwed
the man that touched your naked body
doubled over by the stats You accrued
when you collected signatures for free