Let me just say, I'll speak this and go hide:
I never thought I'd fukin see the day. Your bothered pride--
Your deep reserve of militant reproach:
Your self-aggrandizement burnt to the roach.
--You ain't my master; I love rock and roll:
The streets aflame, the heart in resltess gyre
I like to pump the stereo to 'FULL'
And melt down all the shackles of desire.
Heroic couplets filling in for head,
And syncopation beating out one's bile,
I could bring a harem home to bed
Or smoke a crack vial.
You really want to know who's better off?
It's you, cause you're the furniture of Life--
To me, who'm caught in solipsistic scoffs
Whenever someone talks about his wife.
I do go back and forth between the poles
Of wanting courtly love and wanting holes.
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