Have you ever met someone that was completely content,
With their love and lifestyle, and all cards that were dealt,
With all faults and regrets and feelings they felt,
Through the whip, the crack, and strike of the belt,
As they knelt down to bow to a God they had known,
To sit above everything on his shiny golden throne,
While the believers carved symbols into their fragile aching bones,
And chanted quiet mantras at inconceivable tones,
They knew they were praying to something that didn’t exist,
When they accepted that, they had hurt their fists,
By throwing punches at walls that were made of bricks,
And now their mentality was too far gone to be fixed,
They gave up on the thought of a lord,
And everyone became extremely bored,
Of repetitive tasks that lead nowhere,
So they all decided to stand there, strip bare,
And **** themselves,
Then they were aware,
That whatever dwells,
In the center of the soul,
Was a cancerous being,
That played a simple role,
A role being that,
Of embers or coal,
It lights the way,
To the final destination,
It helps you and hurts you,
In its cruel manifestation,
This is the truth,
And truth shows the way,
To a simple life,
Of white, black, and gray.

We like hanging out together,
Even in the stormy weather,
Riding bikes, holding hands,
Walking in the hot sands,
A little kiss now and then,
From two little tiny men,
Who only walk upside down,
With a crazy looking frown,
They are to be buds,
And #1 studs,
They always make eachother laugh,
Even when they’re doing their math,
Funny, funny, hahaha all the way,
That’s how it went for the rest of the day.

Hey there Delilah,
What's it like in your ******,
I'm a thousand miles away,
But girl, I smell that **** from China.
Yes, I can.
I've got a nice white mini-van,
Lemme tie them hands.

Hey there Delilah,
Don't you worry about the distance,
I will be there in a jiffy,
Give this song another listen,
I'm by your side,
I came fast and now I'll slap your thighs,
And cover your eyes.

Oh, you've got some nice tiddies.
Oh, I'll give you STD's.
Oh, I'll tie you to a tree.
Oh, I'll ******* till' you bleed.
******* till' you bleed.

Hey there Delilah,
You know my **** is getting hard,
But just believe me, girl
Someday I'll let you out of this here car,
We'll have it good,
I'll have your life, you'll have my wood,
Just like you should.

Hey there Delilah,
I've got so much **** to say,
Why write you ten thousand songs,
When I could rub your **** all day,
I'd rub it hard,
From house, to school, to pool, to plane, to yard,
I'll leave some scars.

Oh, you've got some nice tiddies.
Oh, I'll give you STD's.
Oh, I'll tie you to a tree.
Oh, I'll ******* till' you bleed.
******* till' you bleed.

I wish upon a summer star,
****** strings for my guitar,
I think that's gross so I must be gay,
My friends will all make fun of you,
Degrading lies like, "You're a Jew",
You'll try to run but I will make you stay,
Delilah, I can promise you,
That one and one always makes two,
And two people create the greatest games,
Great ***** games!

Hey there Delilah,
You be good, and don't you diss me,
Cause, you're the sub and I'm the dom,
And you will be history if you do,
You'll end up in some cannibal stew,
The liver to swallow and the skin to chew,
Doing like cannibals do,
Like cannibals do.

Oh, you've got some nice tiddies.
Oh, I'll give you STD's.
Oh, I'll tie you to a tree.
Oh, I'll ******* till' you bleed.
******* till' you bleed.

I think that I've addressed that I'm obsessed in forty-three other heartfelt messes. Poetry falling apart at its best is completely normal when I'm loading my cart with formal vests to find confidence in the turmoil. Tinfoil type superstition is envisioned when smoking burnt coil above ripe ****** cakes, that's what it takes when push comes to shove, **** this kush, **** this fake love. Spilling out of every teens pores, killing off through peen spores in teen ******, essence lost from the core with no reward, guessing cost is fourscore then you're out the door. ****, it's a chore living out the lore of a giver and a saint freezing in a river with fresh paint running down the face. River of life and black paint that blinds, giver of strife, it's whack, no matter what the time. Whether you're drunk out of your mind or ******* high, the paint is soon to dry over your eyes and you'll be living blind. Stick your face in the water, it's so ******* simple. Sure, it might be cold on your cracked skin wrinkles. The solution is always right in front of your face. You just got to look for it before it's too late.

I tell my friend to stay strong,
Then I walk off a cliff,
I take a hit off my ****,
As I'm vertically adrift,
People ask me what's wrong,
But my stiff upper lip,
Sings a certain type of song,
That goes something like this:

I am okay,
I'm not in pain,
I don't feel like I'm slowly going insane.
I'm not in love with a girl that won't dare say my name.
I'm not ugly and disgusting and full of shame,
And contemplate suicide every single day,
Avoiding all people, the straight and the gay,
Because of my ******* an-xie-ty,
So stop asking me questions and leave me be.

I'll wander around on these empty streets,
Making use of my mind, my music, and these beats.

Going to a place that's fairly secure,
Ongoing suffering so I wish I were,
In front of a car that happened to swerve,
Nicely triggering all of my nerves,
Guess in the end that's what I deserved.

Thank you for trying,
Over my dead body.

Flying off a roof and then I'm landing,
Under a car that's death demanding,
Crushed and unconciousness ever expanding,
Killed off cause that's what Satan was planning,
In the kingdom of God where they were busy banning,
Nuns not ******* while Peyton Manning,
Grabs Bradys *****, not a sin but enchanting.

**** me please,
I'll beg and I'll plead,
Lie down here with me,
Lost, but I'm free.

My time is gone,
You must live on,
Say that you're strong,
Each of you belong,
Life isn't long,
For this is my song.

Home is where the heart is?
No, the home is for the brain.
Cause when I'm out in the streets,
Then I can dance in the rain.
If I'm trapped in my house,
Then I will go insane.
***** waiting for the storm to pass,
Slowly trickling down the drain.
Having a friend is a pain in the ***,
When there's nothing to gain.
Stopped dead in my tracks, out of gas,
And I'm in the wrong lane.
I've been feeling that to the max,
Day after day,
But why wait for the storm to pass,
When you can dance in the rain.

Condolences,
Today is the day,
Dangerous circumstances,
Are soon on their way.

From the brains in your head,
To the feet in your shoes,
You are soon to be beat,
And you're soon to be bruised.

You'll have blood on your head, crusted into your hair,
No wounds will ever heal, not the cuts or the tears,
With your head leaking brains and red stained white cleats,
The athletes will beat you while you're out on the street.

They'll touch all of your ups,
And they'll touch all of your downs,
From the back to the front,
From the tip to the crown.

They'll open you there,
Wide open and bare.

Outside things will happen,
They will continue to do,
Things that mess with your head,
Because you are a Jew.

And when things will happen,
Don't worry, don't stew,
Just go along with,
Whatever happens to you.

OH!
THE ****'S YOU'LL MEET!

You'll be up on your way,
To see some pretty sights,
Then a **** will show up,
And knock out your lights.

You'll lag behind, because you don't have the speed,
The whole gang will jump you, they'll do it, indeed,
Wherever you go, you'll fight the best of the best,
They'll use their fist to rip your heart out your chest.

Except when they don't,
Because sometimes they won't.

They will be high or drunk or maybe just blue,
They'll be so sad and depressed, they'll do nothing to you.

They will either hang themselves,
or pray in the church,
They will put down their weapons,
and stop the search.

Upon leaving the church,
You'll surely feel a thump,
And chances are then,
That you've just been ******.

A special kind of ****,
That will leave you stunned,
While it's up in the ****,
You'll scream, "This isn't fun!",

You'll feel the reaming of Muhammad and Mark,
One is a light skin, and the other, rather dark,
They'll tear through your **** like it isn't a sin,
Then they'll turn you around and take you for a spin,
And a slurp, and a choke, until the stuff drips down your chin.

When they finish, will you have the strength to fight,
Or will you barely be able to tell left from right,
You'll be so dizzy that you think you might be blind,
It must have been too much ramming from behind,
After they're done, they'll keep you in prison confined.

You will get so confused,
While they're booming the bass,
Riding you faster, at such a neck-breaking pace,
Riding the throat then spilling all over the face,
Then they leave you in shock, in this dark humid place,
Dark... humid... place...

...just waiting and waiting,
As the seasons come and go,
And cars will come and go,
And people come and go,
Some people ask, "Are you okay?",
and you say, "No.",
You continue to just wait.

Wishing that you were just white,
Instead of a Jew that gives off a fright,
To every non-Jew and hater despite,
Religion or if they're dead or awake,
So you still lay there in anguish and ache,
You'll soon get the nerve to pull up your pants,
And then you'll walk south until you reach France,
Every step is a throbbing pain in your ***.

NO!
YOU WILL NOT GIVE UP!

Somehow you'll escape,
The praying then spraying,
Removing all hope,
Whatever was remaining.

As you leave Germany,
you will say goodbye,
But you were too loud,
And you were stopped by a guy.

The man screams out, "HAULT!", as you begin to run,
And now you realize that the great chase has begun,
As you are running away, you trip and you fall,
Still wanting to flee, away you sluggishly crawl,
You feel the mans hands grab so you beg and you plea,
You loosen the grip, stand, then pinned against a tree.

Rammed into the wood,
Knocked out, this is no good.

I'm afraid you'll be caught,
And chopped up in a stew,
This is bound to happen,
No matter what you do.

Very Dead!
Whether you like it or not,
Dead will be something,
You'll be in the ***.

And when you are dead, there's a very good chance,
That a necrophiliac will find romance,
He'll steal your body with his swiftness and brawn,
You'll make him say, "I do want life to go on!".

On he will go,
With his moaning and growls,
On he will go,
Stretching right towards your bowels,
On he will go,
Like a wolf he will howl,
He will awkwardly peck,
With his mouth like a beak,
Upon the great hole,
In which he took a leak.

On and on he'll strike,
Until all the white tar,
Comes out of his *******,
Dirtying his new car.

He doesn't own a horse,
But a car you can blow,
Because there are thirty *****,
Hanging off the window,
And the wheels are some *****,
That are hardened and cracked,
This is a normal car,
This car isn't abstract,
This car doesn't run on gas so it's quite the heft,
When it's pushed up hills with hands of the deft.

So... will you bleed?
Will you beg and plead?
(This Is Actually Zero Percent Guaranteed)

JEW! YOU ARE IN CHARGE!

This is your life, your way,
You're able to seize the day,
You can go to all places,
You can choose to leave or stay,
So please do what you wish,
And your life will be great.

Yet another day I can't go outside,
The walls closing in, my tears like the tide,
Plotting during day, crying during night,
How much longer must I put up this fight?
I must find a way to escape his wrath,
Marriage was obviously the wrong path,
During day work or during his night bath,
I'll sprint out the house, but I must run fast.
-       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -
The door squeaked as I quickly closed the door,
Key in ignition, the engine did roar,
Quick prayer to God, then pressed pedal to floor,
This evil mans wrath I shall feel no more,
I realized I had nowhere to go,
As I drove in silence, through the thick snow,
I decided to turn around and drove,
To the only place I ever did know.

Dear Mama,
You would pause throughout the days amidst the drama,
And talk to me about why we should persist and what’s gonna,
Come of all of this and then climb out of the abyss to forget papa,
And reminisce in incidents of our time in home and in the old Honda.

Dear Papa,
It’s been a very, very long time without you,
A month after you were married, who knew,
You would be buried after a pew, pew, pew,
Shot twice in the upper back and once in the head,
We saw he was black as he ran off, up ahead,
Of your falling attacked body, we yelled as you bled,
Landed on the silver cracked and red stained cement.

Dear Sis,
I know we both long for and miss,
The man who’s gone for the abyss,
So, I wrote a song in honor of his bliss,
Haven’t kissed him since the coffin,
Church surrounded in a foggy mist,
Skin cracked and wrinkled, yet softened,
He will never be forgotten.

I tried humans once, they really weren't fun,
Loved me for some time, threw me out once done,
We praised someones birth, we wept when one died,
They cried when I laughed, they laughed when I cried,
They gave me a feeling of love and pain,
A feeling that makes a man go insane,
It's better not to feel, or so I'm told,
So I've decided to embrace the cold.

The cold is my friend, a friend that can numb,
Unsheathed pocket hand, freeze pinky to thumb,
Strip the shoes and socks off so that the toes,
Feel cold like my bare face, just like my nose,
Stripped off jacket, they say, "What's wrong with you?",
"Everyone is wearing one. Get a clue!",
They can't fathom the way I like to roll,
I tell them, "It's chill... I'm friends with the cold.".

But when cold fleets, and all I feel is heat,
I flee the outdoors, away from the streets,
Into my room where I sit and I wait,
Till' I've thought of a way to replicate,
The all time greatest friend that I once knew,
But things like an ice bath would never do,
Just a subtle breeze, then my love is sold,
To the precious wind, to the freezing cold.