I'm forced to live in the woods & eat moles 'cause I really do love it
and I'd never ***** that I am too royal toward it, or very far above it
or *****-***** to ream & **** it, even when I'm 768 miles from it
Unlike you, with your greyish bumps, I ain't scarfed corn dogs with
stinkin' garbage men, in garbage trucks, speeding to garbage dumps
My ditzy ***** went crazy from a street drug so, like they did with
father Grigorii Rasputin, I shot her twice, then wrapped her in a rug
While I'm swingin' an ax in an abortuary to unsettle my calm bones
I find quiet consolation listening to near-dead, half-deaf Tom Jones
who dreams of Earth minus lesbians grooming dads as mom clones