It's all  conspiracy
Idle hands are the Devil's playthings
I told you so
Remove the feeding tube
But not during the gestation period
By after the gastric bypass
And right before the insemination
Put the fault on the horse voiced gentry
And the perpendicular denominations
What's it to you?
You estranged neo-native
Counterfeit piety and disobedient estranged friends unnerve you
You act so factious
Deliberately making everything a joke
Ponder the trajectory of my fist to your glass jaw
And the brass knuckles to your abdomen
You'll want to get an iron lung when we're through
Maybe a respirator and a catheter
Now, go count your toenail clippings as the idle minds cast their votes for this referendum

       -Tommy Johnson