Come up north to see the great outdoors
Rolling hills
Scenes leaving you wanting more
Never mind the weather
Whether its rain or shine
Grab a pint
Sit down
And enjoy our way of life

Born and bred northern boy
But no flat cap or corduroys
Yorkshire til the day I die
I'll represent that West Yorks sign
Faithful to my northern life
Faithful to my northern rhyme
Brought up well with northern vibes
Through hard times, miners strike
Times when maggie thatcher tried
to stir up **** with lies designed
Got miners and police to fight
But don't believe that southern hype...
Those brutal battles gave us life
It redefined our future times
Redefined our future lines
Redefined the northern kind
Redefined our northern humour
Redefined our northern style
Tourists come from far and wide
to find out what the North is like
Expecting lack of cultured life
Surprised we're not uncultured swines
Rewarded with our northern minds
Our northern ways
Our northern lives

Come up north to see the great outdoors
Rolling hills
Scenes leaving you wanting more
Never mind the weather
Whether its rain or shine
Grab a pint
Sit down
Enjoy our way of life

the disease of despair
gambling
suicide
hate
sadism

symptoms, not causes
of the brown blood
drained from swines'
pockets

gather up your coat
and your hat
for the primetime
event

You hear those saint fainted swines? Slopping around ****** in muck. For hogs seeking bogs, bespatter the pink with thick mire. Dull sluggish foul smelled trolls, basking a bridges under cove, feasting on distant mare. But old boar’s belly’s’ under grown, he has not self meat to spare. Go elsewhere wise butcher. Go elsewhere. Grieve not thy ******* of purification, instead satisfactory of sales. He has not the soul to touch rare blood of a bessy hung by hook. Sars covered hands, sars drenched the feet. Not here butcher, elsewhere lay menial meat.

we are all falling
and eating our eggs
so blindly we eat them
we chew up our teeth
like a mouthful of chairs
like a gathering of bears
like a discordant tea party
we lap on our legs
we love all our swines
we swallow our foetuses
we plant pretty flowers
and consume each other’s mouths
like we’re trying to really taste
our mouths are so dry
we saliva each other
our insides are outsides
we are all sea creatures
we are all so wet and bubbly
we are so blatantly in love
like drawers full of teeth
like hands full of piano keys
like carpets soaked in birth fluid
we all are so slippery
we’re blinding our faces
we’re deafening our toes
we’re eating our eggs
and we’re falling

Vark sonder gehee
gloed van verspeelde perels
iemand se waansin

Unconscionable
glossary of wasted Pearl's
a swines glory

tonight we ride!
we shall band together and raise our swords!
to hell with 'em! they don't stand a dust mote of a chance!
follow me!

show no fear! we are men!
this day is ours!
on the morrow we will return home rich with glory
and our names will be sung in songs!

swines! beasts in men's clothes!
feel the kiss of cold steel!
savages! all of you!
dine with the devil in the land of hell!
we take no prisoners! We yield only to death!

tonight we ride!

how did it begin anyway
this love of sound and words and rhythm
and word-painting?
did a bunch of perhaps thirteen men and women
gather one night
under the star-covered trees
and eat pizzas and say:

tonight we'll all not drink sake
or soma
and we'll not have ***
or argue about swines and politics and metaphysics;
we'll not drink wine or breathe in fumes
that make minds gallop like wild boars
but, tonight, we'll drink words instead?

Did anyone tell you
that you’re prettier
than the water between
the grooves of the asphalt
after it rains?

with traffic lights glowing
through those tiny lakes

I was standing in an empty pool
while everyone was smoking
and watching the tedious fate
of all the cigarette ashes
soon to be washed away
and murdered by chlorine

Watching smoke elude his light yellow teeth:

he shot dope a lot
dropped too much acid, too young
I’m glad I’m not him

At the end of a rainbow
lies a young girl squatting in a wash
she’ll wake up in a gutter
and harass tourists to the next town

Red hair, punk rock girl
“you are wonderful, can I
buy some ecstasy?”

Waiting for the snow to fall
so you’ll put on that plaid jacket
that I met you in
and I’ll take pictures of you walking
down a street

on the bus, on the way to the sacrifice
you put on your war paint
and I wear that nice shirt my father bought me

you were like a bat
a face with wings
that hovered over my head
while I smelt smoke
acrid smoke
barbarians in the gutter
roasting their enemies

Do you hear that?
The braves are stomping over the embers
metal walls and rocky head collisions
and the promise of sleepless nights out

blazing stars
shot down by the clueless wishing
of the blessed infants and deadly lullabies
plastic bags choke on the cardinal’s throat

Let me stand in the fire pit again
my shoes smelled like smoke and
burnt plastic
for only a week

There are split seconds
of snakes and swines
fighting inside my pupils
waiting for five dollar bills
to show them the light

On the bus ride home
I wait a few minutes
before the last stop
and try to get the spit out
of my throat
so I don’t look
like a fool
(like I do every other day of the week)

We create
new histories everyday,
but we also
create
new atrocities everyday.
At least
that’s what you
indirectly told me when
I was stuck in between
the convergence of
the black hole sun.

To be frank,
once in a while I
would expect you
to wonder who actually
I am
and I would also
wait for
you to ask
me things
in order to get
to know me better.
But
you
never
did.
Let alone to remember that we once met years ago.
I guess I expected too much.

(([Lowkey] I honestly want you to wonder, “who’s this mysterious girl-next-door who recently had just moved in?” at least once.))

((Maybe one day you will. Maybe one day you will wonder about me and approach me and ask me stuff. At the time when it’s too late and I don’t care about you anymore.))

The convoluted
conundrum that
I must solve here
is about how
some people want
peace and justice
so bad but they
do the opposite of
what they’re supposed
to do in order
to reach those
two things.
I guess it made me
conclude,
maybe peace
has never really
existed after all.
Peace is probably
just a delusional
misconception
construed by
idealists who
still have glimpses
of hope.
And I am not
one of those
idealists.

I am
that one kid
who has always
wanted to
run away to
somewhere unreachable
by everyone
I know
or to dissolve
all the remaining
memories I
have.

(I’m lying if I say I don’t want you to love me. I’m lying if I say I’m alright this way. I’m lying if I say I’m fine with not running away. I’m lying if I say I don’t want to resurrect into a whole new person and create a whole new world with a whole new surrounding.)

The only time
I thought you
cared was
years ago
when we were still
strangers
(I think we still are)
and we sat
by the creek that time;
you told me
the only thing that
mattered;
the only thing
that I would forever remember;
deep in my
earnest
mind.

“All those hegemonies and authoritative institutions, I think you don’t need them. They’d hurt you even more. You don’t need to go to that communal institution called school, nor to conform to the heinous dogmas of the uncultured swines around you — they’d keep making you feel like a misfit who doesn’t matter. And I don’t want you to feel that way. When those elderly people told you that you’ll be going nowhere if you don’t listen to them; don’t listen to them for they’re off playing God. I want you to
listen to
nothing and
no one
but your
stances.
I’ll look after
you someday
and make sure
you don’t get
hurt
even if
preventing you
from getting hurt
involves
death to
both of us.”

For the love of God,
we were s t r a n g e r s
when you said that to me.

Now you still don’t get it why do I still love you that profoundly
—and why deep down I wish you loved me?

I'm sad
my friend
sad

you tried
we tried
we cried

you fought
we fought
for naught

craven creature
writhed
and won

I'm sorry
friend
so sorry

how can sun
be gone
yet birds sing

don't they see
can't they tell

it is but stars
an afterglow
all is naught

life has passed
your ailing breath
expired

from darkness sown
by drug cartels
intent

on breaking will
of *** plant babes
sourced for fame

stealthy greed
seduces most
millions sought

want you
and me
they're undeterred

their filly reach
a blinding hate
of freedom's rights

leave humans be
as infants wail
and white coats play

mere blinded dupes
pay dues required
in hallowed halls

and now you're
dead
yes, dead

not anywhere
you've left us
gone

from dirt to dirt
and ash to ash
and so it ends

somehow we must
decide to breathe
when you cannot

I hold you still
in memory's dream
my brother sweet

though in my arms
the grief burns
pure

writhe impotent
in essence true
we're nil

no flow of tears
will soothe you now
they've ceased

the dreaded C
has had its day
too bad

too bad
our useless words
rebound

a spinning wheel
pathetic croaks
on fade porch

perhaps if we...
I should have said...
why didn't I...

and so it goes

tortured mind
unwilling thrusts
accept the truth

grim reaper came
and now he's
gone

another love
will soon be
marked

why you dear friend
Lord, please
not you

the rivers dam
there are no streams
that be enough

remorse it screams
why not the swines
the great unwashed

why was it you
the good
- why

darkness can come over us at any time, when we least expect it
turns our day into night, my darkness hides monsters, they are faceless
and yet each one,has my face, a face of mistakes
each bloodsoaked line, tells its own story
a grain of sand in a lifetime, of blood guts, and glory
a page in a book, a look into someones life
a good read, or a reason to hide, float away on the tide

i watch people, not people like me, there arnt any
just regular mr and mrs smith
i watch them shop, chat, buy, sell, argue,
i watch them watch me, i wonder do we all just watch each other
do sisters watch brothers, sons and daughters,
fathers and mothers, we all watch the clock, tick tock
time running out, death getting closer,life going out
people rush to get somewhere, rush to get back
sit for 5 mins and think about rushing, for this and that
not taking time to chat, laugh, or nap
no time to rest, just headless chickins
searching for slim pickings, life has to offer

sheep that bleet, waiting to be meat, on some fat ******* table
stuffing it in, relaying some useless fable
to guests that have requests, to be entertained
wine and dine, pass the time, like fat swines
feeding and breeding, living to eat, to consume
we are nothing, nothing that matters anyway
we just eat, bulshit, die, and fade away
we are here for a short stay, in this coffin life
living in stone tombs, for a price
noyone cares, noyone is nice, we are all rats and mice

kids and a wife
a sharp knife, to cut my own throat
bleed me dry, make me cry
leave this life, its not nice,
daytime fading, darkness waiting, life escaping
i dont care, nothing left here for me anymore
i am sick of being life,s *****
cant do it , feel sick, cant look in the mirror, to face myself
i am a blank expression,
eyes cloud over, time has run out, i am free, dont cry for me
i am finally where i need to be,
alone, in the ground, not a sound,
cold, old, no more storys to be told
just darknesss

A thousand unclimbed chimneys but the soot lay heavy on his half starved frame,
and the woman,a name he could not pronounce waited in the darkened street to pounce upon unwary boys and men,
and then the clinging of the silt at low tide on the Thames, where the lens of greedy eyes would spy out,hear the cry out of the mudlarks
but no larking there.
The gears that grind and inner wheels that wind.

Northern towns do not exist
they're just a story that persists in our collective memory,
a nightmare that we waken from.
These mill town dressing gown like nursery rhymes
designed to make us think we live in better times,
wrapped us up in cotton wool.
Until
we were just as full of fear and fantasy
as our collective memory.

Industrialisation was the sow that suckled pigs,
look at them now,
Swines
don't talk to me of better times
don't talk to me at all.

It was the SS/country Great Britain.
That sailed the wintry sea;
And Prime Minister May had taken her people,
To bear her company.

Blue and brown were their eyes, all paid their tax,
Their cheeks coloured from a hard working day,
And their *******/chests swollen as the hawthorn buds
That proudly produce in the month of May.

The Prime-Minister she stood at her lectern,
As vile words left her mouth,
She preached that UK's world citizens are
no citizens, neither here, nor West nor South.

Then up and spake an expert Sailor,
Had sailed the European Mains,
"I pray thee, put to yonder port,
For I fear Brexit' ruinous hurricanes.

"Last year the pound had a golden ring,
And t'row the pound will flee!"
But the Prime-Minister she only sought strife,
And a scornful laugh laughed she.

Colder and colder grew the UK's economy,
A crisis grew from North to East;
Family businesses fell first to Tory hedge-fund swines,
Evil wizards not bothered in the least.

Down came the crisis' storm, and smote amain,
SS Great Britain in its strength;
Its poor crew shuddered and paused; hurt by all this greed,
The once United Kingdom leaped across its length.

"Come hither! come hither! Scotland, Wales,
Northern Ireland, do not tremble so;
For I can weather our enemies' ordeals,
That ever they will throw.

PM May palmed the people in, telling them lies
Barking fake news on EU enemies' blasts;
She invented tales about immigrants,
Wishful thinking it would save money vast.

"Oh Mother May! I hear our EU friends' phones ring.
O say, what it may be?"
"''These 're false calls on shark-bound mainland coasts!" -
And May knowingly steered to crash UK's economy.

"Oh Mother May! I hear psalms of  Brittany's nuns,
O say what may it be?"
"Some German Lorelei fiends, which only live
In that wretched foul euro-zone economy".

"Oh Mother May! I hear EU's peaceful plights,
O say what may it be?"
But Mother May answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was she.

Lashed to number 10, all stiff and stark,
With her face turned to the skies,
The Big Ben clock light illuminated banking blizzards
On her fixed and glassy eyes.

Then UK's people clasped their hands and prayed
That saved they might be;
And they thought of prophetical politicians who could still the waves,
That wrecked Great Britain's economy.

And fast through twilight months dark and drear,
Through the whistling greed of the superrich,
Like a tweeted Trump, Great Britain wept
Towards the reef of Farage's glitch.

And between the financial rust
Cries came from the people;
It was the sound of their trampled trust,
On a bed of lies and Johnson's creeple.

The loan sharks were right on the people's toes,
The country drifted a dreary wreck,
And whooping profits for the rich
were cheered by th'entire cabinet.

The country broke where the white and fleecing waves
Created poverty in the neglected North,
But the cruel Russians, they gored her side
With hackers killing its democratic berth.

The people shocked as British cool subsided,
When the NHS went overboard;
The once Great Britain, she stove and fell apart,
**! **! the bankers roared.

Years later, on a bleak winters' day,
EU's UK-citizens, always welcomed, stood aghast,
To see the form of old Great Britain fair,
Battered down by self-inflicted Tory blasts.

Destroyed NHS and infrastructure wrecked the health
of its citizens, tears filled their eyes,
Rivers their homes, with flood prevention ignored,
Countryside and cities drastically demised.

Such became the wreck named Great Britain,
Doomed by alt-right and the superrich!
Reason save us all from a death ordained
On the reef of Farage's glitch!

Put up or shut up and sit down and button it,you're so into the ******* that you're being fed
you can't see you're being led like a lamb to the table,unable to resist it's almost like you are ****** but you'll fall into the plate and be served up to those fat swine that I really hate,you've been hypnotised by the ******* of lies and the pigs in the sty's have put **** in your eyes and you cant see a thing.
Oh
'bring me my bow'
let me draw back the string
all I want to hear is the arrow at it sings, as it brings death to the bureau where we all know they churn out the same sort of agenda,
where these ideals are defended it follows that belief is suspended and I am upended on the end of a rope,
thereby swings the story and **** hope and glory it's each man alone and the dog gets the bone but there's ****** all meat and in the end of it,after the swines and the ***** and the ******* bit by ******* bit
we'll eat ourselves.

And it is now sold
Borrowed
Underneath the hands
A relished possession
In the pockets for the greed

Auditioning the green
While laughing at feeble ones
Everything here is made for profit
Whenever the darkness does hit
No care to this planet at all
Selling the shoot star's fall

From the breath
To the fire
Drink of water
And the turf to bury the dead
Everything goes green from the red

From the trees come the notes
To buy the beauty of lands
No more fighting
Just up-for-grabs

(Bridge)---

Going once - What am I to you again?
Going twice - How are you going to reign?
And gone - Taken by the man with the cigar
----------------

(Chorus)---

Everything must go
Liquidate this Earth
Paying the ultimate due
To our really final hour of death
Life and death are not for sale
Discounted down to our souls
--------------------

For pleasure comes the pain
When the dollar signs blinding this world
Becoming enslaved to the symbol
The symbol of death
In which wars have been fought
The heights of the egos
Killing the eagles in the skies
Many shall fall as they die

The rain of the notes
Collected by evil hands
Just to destroy with
When did this land
A God-given land
Became a profit to the greed
We must take heed

There seems to be no hope in sight
What else are you looking for?
Humans becoming their own enemy
When the rich becoming the poor in the mind
In their own abyss, they become so blind
As they fall forever in their own holes

“Did you hear that?
Eden has been discounted
ON ALL PRODUCTS!!”

The riches of the Earth
Which used to be
Now, it is all become for greed
Since the new babe’s birth

(Bridge)---

Going once - What am I to you again?
Going twice - How are you going to reign?
And gone - Taken by the man with the cigar
----------------

(Chorus)---

Everything must go
Liquidate this Earth
Paying the ultimate due
To our really final hour of death
Life and death are not for sale
Discounted down to our souls
--------------------

(Guitar Solo 1)

Cut the trees
Pollute the seas
All in the name of cash
Oil the skies
Smoke do rise
All in the name of cash

Paint with green
All in between
All in the name of cash
Extinct the wild
Trash the tides
All in the name of cash

Marketing overflowing
Burn the forest for your paper money
Which flies in the wind
To the east, west to send
Who care about the atmosphere
When the dollars are so clear
To the Scrooges devouring our world
Our would shall be stabbed
BY THE GOLDEN SWORD

(Guitar Solo 2)

Earthy-earthy-earthy
Mine! Mine! Mine!
Earthy-earthy-earthy
Money! Money! Money!

Just the symbols of death
Roaming around the globe
With numbers and figures
And you… devoured by the glutton ones

No genuinity
No morality
When the flesh is been bought
From the animals to the human kind
“We want the coins for the daughters”
Children are sold
From hand to hand
Nothing is safe from the greed
Give me more
Give me more
AND **** ME AGAIN

SO…
Sing with me

Earthy-earthy-earthy
Ours! Ours! Ours!
Earthy-earthy-earthy
Money! Money! Money!

MONEY TALKS LOUD!!!

(Guitar Solo 3)

Swines of this Earth
Will sing their victory songs
Over the blood
And broken bones
Of the ones trying to survive

Asking the questions:
“Is my land for sale?”
“Is my soul for rent?
“How can I survive?
“Is what life is about?”

To pay money, money, money
To a world that is never enough
TO BE FED
WE ALL SHALL END UP DEAD

Without the phony riches
OF THIS EARTH

HEY MOTHER!!!
As we ask
WHY
ARE
YOU
SO
EXPENSIVE
TO LIVE
TO LIVE
TO LIVE

I… WANT… TO… LIVE

Death is cheap?

How are we going to break the silence
When louder comes the cash flow
In which direction will this wind blow
Humankind shall resort to violence
After they reach for their pockets
With emptiness inside
As you are being going up to Heaven
Ha! Ha! Ha! No!
Are you kidding?

YOU ARE GOING STRAIGHT TO HELL!!!!
TO HELL!!!
HELL!!!!
WITH NOTHING TO GAIN

HA! HA! HA!

As we ask those questions
ONCE AGAIN

(Bridge)---

Going once - What am I to you again?
Going twice - How are you going to reign?
And gone - Taken by the man with the cigar
----------------

(Chorus)---

Everything must go
Liquidate this Earth
Paying the ultimate due
To our really final hour of death
Life and death are not for sale
Discounted down to our souls
--------------------

Welcome to planet Earth, human!
HA! HA! HA! HA!
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

The phone rings,
Or rather vibrates,
As I stir my instant coffee
Because my Keurig is broken
And I haven’t gotten around to replacing it.
The lady on the other end
Of the call
Says she’s with the bank.
She’s selling identity theft protection subscriptions.
I listen to her
Explain
What that is
With mild excitement growing in my stomach;
Not with regards to the
Subscription,
But over the
Tones and intonations —
The way she breathes:
Softly,
Warmly,
Unconsciously.
I let her run with it,
Feigning curiosity at first.
A question here,
There,
To really get her going.
I wonder when she was last ******?
She asks to verify my name,
Address.
She mentions a credit score package
(Ooh la la)
That will provide me with insight as to whether my identity has ever been
Stolen.
(This call
Is getting steamy)
She tells me that in order to receive the package I need to confirm my enrolment in the subscription.
‘What?
Could you repeat that?’
I can feel it
Tickling,
Licking,
My soul,
As I sip my ****** instant coffee.
I tell her
That I absolutely won’t enrol,
That I refuse,
But that she should be a voice actor
Or that if she was a voice option for Siri
I would surely select her.
She doesn’t have a response,
Choosing to wish me a good evening instead,
And to thank me on behalf of her employer.
‘No,
Thank you dear.
Call this number whenever you like.
I don’t want your talents to go unappreciated by other customers
Who I’m sure are all swines.’
Click.
I stare at the ended call
And fantasize about your voice,
And when you were last ******.
Too bad the coffee is ****.

Once a maggot
now a barfly

Yeah, right, those times when
you get involved in all those street fights
and you win them all
and all those fights are just to prove that
you're stronger
whereas your heart keeps on hollering in distraught
and suffocating in poignancy.

Yeah, right, there are those times,
you have always wanted to say,
"Dear mother and father, I have won this fight!"
after you actually conquered what the real fight is—
which is battling your fear in places where you feel unwanted.
And thus you said it with gleaming pride to the two souls who raised you.
But unfortunately when you come home they disowned you
for they have grown weary of all your shenanigans and juvenile delinquent brawls.

Even the place that raised you has eradicated your presence
and thus you have nowhere you find tranquil
and you keep on counting the next battles and fears.
And yeah, they feel privileged to call you anything,
be it a libertine with a ****** up life,
or the kid with the lowest rank of worth in the school of the heinous world.

Indeed, you can thrash the living **** out of them with your fists and guns.
But when they throw menacing words at you, you become weak
and all those fighting skills mean nothing to you now
for in all conscience you're weaker than broken branches
behind all those façades of the savage delinquent persona.

And your mother, her no-longer-precious young vine is out for war everyday,
but she keeps insisting that you're not fighting for anything at all.
And your father, his not-anymore shining crescent is now a forlorn and disoriented shipwreck,
but he keeps focusing on your rebellious surface rather than your shattered heart.
And your delinquent mates, they only used you because they think you're the strongest.
And the people who only know your surface, they're almost always out to haunt you everyday.

It's not about me, it's about you.
If one day you reach your limitation of strength
and you can no longer save yourself,
then who will do?
If there are plenty of kids who share the same fate of you
in this atrocity-ravaged world of seven billion,
then what can I do?
If lives keep on falling because all of us are weak but never get protected,
how dare I pretend that I'm unaware of it?

In the end, we all die.
Some die in contentment, some others in destruction.
Some die of fate, some others of choice.
But how would you feel
if the one who has always been in the front row of your gigs,
and the one whose artworks you have always adored,
and the one who always lights your circle with their vibes,
and the one who invincibly skates through high valleys,
and the one who sends you encouragement every night,
and the one who sends you to a real home when you're nowhere man,
are all the ones who die of choice?

Those conformist educational institutions give awards and homages to the ones
who are the smartest and brightest with scintillating future ahead of them.
But no one has ever given any awards to the strongest fighters
whose dark and distorted future is completely not their fault.

We didn't **** ourselves over shattered youth.
Those low-life swines murdered us after leaving us a shattered youth.
And thus I only have one single word;
Fight.
Not with fists, not with revolvers, not with explosives, not with submachine guns, not with daggers, not with ****** rifles, not with multiple launcher rocket systems.
Fight
with thy heart.

Not a poem to be found
it looks like the rhymes
have joined the underground.

subversive little *****
ungrateful swines,
apoplexy
rhymes with what?
****?
not a chance,
not in the mood for mince pies
or romance
and
look
the rhymes are returning
well
*** 'em
I'm burning the book
and renting a
video

I'll watch Stallone on my own.

Them shabby,greedy,grasping grabby gits what sits on Whitehall's seats gives me the heebies
what with all them bleeding freebies it beats me what we has them for,it's sods own law but them lot there don't give a flying monkeys,they just don't care for the likes of me and you,
but it's me and you what makes them rich and still the greedy buggers itch for more and more,
a case of Orwell's nineteen eighty four and there's no ragged trousered philanthropists anymore,the score being, them one and us nil and the swines send us the ****** bill and if you haven't got the readies it's off to beddy byes up hangmans hill,
them ******* will
get you in the end,bend you to their way of thinking,put holes in you until you're sinking and throw you a promissory note,does **** float?
I think not
but I think it's what we get and all they've got,
it's a right old liberty with the men at the thin end of the ministry and the fat cats get them rats to batten us down.

Out of town it gets no better,they google  and with the letter of the law move in to nick you,it makes me sick,an Englishman's home should be his castle not the knocking shop for them what has to hassle,but
it's in the doings and when the doings become undone, we see it now with the knife and the gun
and that's no fun.neither is the sharp end of the stick they **** and poke us with,
it's donkeys and dogs and the laps of the gods and we sit and drink tea when the clock strikes three
because we're all a little crazy,
a teensy off key,
we have to be
to survive.

My watch is made of iron,
Her watch is made of gold,

Now truth be told if they were sold,
Her would fetch a hefty price,
But when telling time, it's the gears inside,
That count and they're always steel, of course.

My gun is made of iron,
His gun is made of gold,

Now, to tell the truth if I could choose,
I'd take his rather, to be real,
But when killing a man you must understand,
The bullet is what seals the deal.

So even with all the advantage,
That gold gives to fat rich swines,
I'm prepared to take my chances with killing men, and telling time.

Praying mantis prey
As the swines consume the dead
The Jackyl's scale weighs

The half-wit humanoids declared
we are going to change my personality
turn me a vacant dumb superficial carcasses like them
grandly our spineless nefarious scoundrels cowards stated
we are going to make the strong weak by bullying him to death
that's what we do to excellence and decent standards that's notable

The racists ignorant backwards cowards
nonentities full of envy and spite gang up in putrid slime
its anarchy and hell to pay for he that achieves and reaches far
slander and defamation is the greatest leveler for not being dumb
we do his head in and drive him paranoid to ruin the bright ******
why should he be all we can never be or own what we can never own

What they don't own is character and honest endeavors
swines and thieves mired in hedonism, laziness and chicanery
weak in body and soul, lying, evil, smearing, cheating bullies
pretentious as ****, dark and wickedly conniving, satans spawns
destructive and negative, our narcissists in psychosis seeks validity
all you gain is by default, wear your fake crown of deceit proudly
the world knows you, none likes or respect you in your ivory tower

Thirty years down the line and against ONE man
the under endows are still deluding themselves in mindless styles
your control is your waste of your useless time showcasing foolish
your silly invalidation are eggs on your red pale faces every time
Your PM has Turkish origins, Chancellor indian, Home Sec Indian
what are you, a rabble of twisted racists nonentities victimizing one man
Because he showed you up for the losers, common thieves, wasters and senseless underachievers you really are......

They're so ungrateful,
so terrible,
what must I do
to avoid these swines?

I ate it
wallowed in it
added water to make made mud pies
I planted in it
grew flowers colorful as butterflies
I carried it into my house
wore it on my buckled leather shoes
it stained my white lace dress
brown handprints on the walls
the halls looked a mess
it hardened on mother’s kitchen floor
in dark footprints she didn't ignore
she whipped me with the wooden spoon
locked me in my room till noon
stuck under my fingernails
in the tub left a ring
I dished it out with friends
gee, those girls can sling
the men it's on their minds
they roll in it as pigs
ha, they all are suited swines!
washed out in the laundry
read in girly magazines
kicked up in the baseball field
the visiting and home teams