Enemy training, one, two three
Is notable for its simplicity.
You just arm yourself thoroughly
And shoot people with alacrity.
Don’t worry about being wrong
Or whether an action is right.
That they don’t want you to shoot
Is enough to start the fight.

Please take this as truth
That this is how it is done
If you see someone as enemy
You cease to see a human.
The fact that they are armed
And don’t like who you like
Is enough to create words like
****, ****, ****** and ****.

Enemy training, one, two three
Is notable for its simplicity.
You just arm yourself thoroughly
And shoot people with alacrity.

Line up the opposition forces
Against a bullet-riddled wall
And shoot them many times
And see how many will fall.
The ones who do not die
Must be minions of the devil.
They are the enemy, you see.
That’s all. That’s on the level.

Don’t worry about being wrong
Or whether an action is right.
That they don’t want you to shoot
Is enough to start the fight.

And those people that don’t
Believe in your own form of Jesus,
Like Aerabbs and Jews and such,
Shoot them as much as it pleases.
Because they won’t go to heaven,
And are just heathens anyway
Like them Buddhist dingdongs
Like them ****** lesbians and gays.

Enemy training, one, two three
Is notable for its simplicity.
You just arm yourself thoroughly
And shoot people with alacrity.

And people in foreign countries
Well, you can guess how that goes;
Take a look and easily compare
Canadanians to them from Mexico.
The French are Frogs, Spanish spics.
None as good as us Americans.
And nothing good can come out
Of any **** place that is African.

Don’t worry about being wrong
Or whether an action is right.
That they don’t want you to shoot
Is enough to start the fight.

Now if you find some of this offensive
And if this is revving up your motors,
Just bear in mind, this is what goes on
In the mind of the average voter.
Want to change this, make life better?
Drop your representatives a letter.
Tell them you are on to their villainy
And see them as supporting the REAL enemy.

When you fall in love with someone
It's nearly impossible to shake that felling
You know it's time to let go
You can't help but to feel
That maybe
With time
They'll change
So you hold on
To the person you think you know
But you don't anymorre
And you deny it
Tell yourself that it will get better
He will get better
You believe
That he won't hurt you again
But deep inside
You know he will
Because he's done it many times before
And you still held on

Ahh...the smell of "sweet success,"

Dressed up in bundles of bows,
Point out all of your "faults" and drill the teeth, braces on for years,
It'll make the "biggest difference," you'll be what you're "meant to be,"
Shove these roll models in your face, it's all about these prudent fears,
We've gotta follow suit, be moulded, from day to day, months, years,
Follow the path well followed until you're the "best" at this old game,
It'll be such a sorry path if you choose eccentrics-what *you dream?

**What a shame!

Come and let me tell you
Tales of distant wizards
In far off foreign lands.
The speak in words of poetry
And magic incantations
Even they don’t understand.

They tell of arcane stories
Of dragons and the caves
Of gemstones where they hid.
They tell of verve and derring-do
And swashbuckling heroism
In legendary acts they never did.

They chant, these ancient shamans
To deities and gods of ancient name
Who they know well are fakers.
They foretell and portend wonders
And riches for those who rule, and
Call themselves movers and shakers.

These magic-minded soothsayers
Drape themselves in auras of mystery
And tell the believers they can heal.
And if the congregation fails to look
Closely enough at their performances
They believe the mythological is real.

And time can coat the stores in paint
That looks like the patina of the ages
So it passes the inspection of he willing.
No true believer looks for cracks
In the walls around the real facts
Or questions the truth they are killing.

The celestial star owls mounted their attack. Light begin to burn away the shadow fog that clouded this beautiful  memory.  The addiction wrapped it's darkness around the light of the star owl and quickly consumed it. The star owl could not be saved. It turned into a star demon and a servant of the addiction.  The new born star demon looked into my eyes with dead light and false hope.  I was beginning to belive in such hopes. On how everything will be OK if I joined the addiction .  I could be a part of and endless euphoric light that will forever pleasure my soul.  I then was brought back from the dead light from the remaining star owls.  They showed me true light again. I was now fighting beside them in the light.  But the Legion of false hope was winning and pushing us back.  I then sent out an s.o.s to all corners of this galaxy.

You quote from Leviticus
Call me an abomination
As you eat cheeseburgers
And claim a Christian nation.
You don’t ****** daughters
Who have had unmarried love
Yet, demonizing gay people
Fits you like an expensive glove.

You vilify your children daily
And quote the bible to boot,
While you work on the Sabbath
In your fine mixed-fabric suit.
You talk so glibly about us
Out of both sides of your mouth.
You are embarrassing examples
Of the sickness of the Old South.

You just ain’t right.
Your head’s on wrong.
Your hypocritical ravings
Are the cause of this song.
You’re a liar and a nut
And you’re halfway crazy.
We'd make laws against you
But we’re too **** lazy.

You wave your hands and pray
In public so you are well seen.
You copy your Christianity
From the latest People magazine.
Your idea of pious philosophy
Is way off the Christian track.
If I ever shake hands with you
I’ll count the fingers I get back.

You just ain’t right.
Your head’s on wrong.
Your hypocritical ravings
Are the cause of this song.
You’re a liar and a nut
And you’re halfway crazy.
We'd make laws against you
But we’re too **** lazy.

He, the rumpled bumbler,
Stumbled, mumbling, bungling
Through his self-made jungle
No mote of humility, his abilities
Were not inclusive of subtlety.
He settled for a public identity
Of propriety and normality,
Obvious hospitality but falsity
Like the nose on his face, exposed.

What a verbose, but artificial
Government official he was.
His cause was never for us
It was for that he was notorious;
How laboriously he dissembled.
But he resembled his opposition
Then took a position of submission
Until his mission was complete
Then he beat his feet in retreat
To those he knew could beat
The highest price and that was nice.

Twice as nice for rental cars
And pretty movie stars
Who weren’t too humble
To stumble the red carpet
With the rumpled bumbler,
Mumbling, no longer bungling
Through his self-made jungle.
Still no humility, a perfect facility
To take from the poor, give to the rich
And not care who calls him sonofabitch.

She glories in how projected her butts are but forgets how minute her brain works.
The length of her fingers and nails gives her confidence but she doesn't see how short her life is.
She gallops from door to door wherever wealthy men dwell but never bothered to get the the key to the door leading to the life after here.
She pities the churchy lady for not catching fun, but deep down her, she has no joy herself.
The fragrance of her perfume still could not conceal the odour her character produces.
She is wise at getting all she can now but never thinks of securing the future after life here.
Her elegant physique and graceful skin is her choice asset.
Walking with straight neck and wobbling **** to lure her preys, she forgets the day she would need a walking stick.
She indeed is myopic in her thoughts.
She flouts the morals of her society just to please herself.
She constructs a world she can't sustain.
Like a missionary sepulchre, her outward beauty glows but within her are the wiles the wisest of men can't resist.
She trades her  beauty for pennies.
She's a *******!