Hacking into my favourite sunset,
Washing it purple, a cream violet.
The moon dances auburn into the asteroid belt,
Which tips into Jupiter causing Saturn to melt.
Everything in life is free
Until enslaved my man’s money.
A man’s money infers his worth
Thus man thinks he owns the Earth.
A man would trade his worth away
For different façades every day.
The Earth is cloaked in worth decay,
As worth is spoilt and fades away.
My spirit is a cheeseburger
My soul is a fish
My ghost is lasagne
A chicken wing’s my wish.
My thoughts are garnished with fried chicken fat
My throat sings with the gargle of bacon juice
My heart beats with the aid of sugar so pure
I dissolve into gluttonous self-abuse.
Thugs are chugging.
Thugs are chugging cookies in the mountain of Gelrare
Your hairs stand on end and your stomach starts to tear
In the rare cave that leads to the centre of Gelrare.
Chip-tune circuses where everyone is hugging
The lava pool’s unplugged and thugs continue chugging
It’s all very odd in the mountain of Gelrare…
Dangerous… and very, very odd.
I advise that you stay away young traveller.
I heard that it’s possible to divide by zero there
They have a parrot as a priest and a ferret as a mayor
And a labyrinth which a distorted duck claims as its lair.
Not a person’s ever come back from the centre of Gelrare…
…but if you do go, do tell Margaret the ostrich that I said hi…
I look in the mirror at my multiple dimples
Made even more pronounced by my bounteous pimples.
Who ever said ‘looking decent is simples’?
Such a person is a liar, a fraud, and a thief
Sucking money via cosmetics through pearly barred teeth
Carrots are awful. They taste like horse-food and are horse-food. Are you are horse? No? Then stop eating carrots. I don’t care if they add colour to the meal; they taste awful. Their texture is that of a slug when over-boiled, and that of a raw turnip when under-boiled. Do I see you enjoying any slug-turnips? No. Then stop eating carrots you slug-turnip eating horse!
‘This unicorn of turgid!’
Said Edward the Rigid
‘Even more turgid than my wife is frigid!’
‘Out of ten digits I’d give it three it’s so turgid!’
Said Edward the Rigid who in fact was a midget.
‘Not enough to impress wife who’s so very frigid.’
…and so with that he left the unicorn store
And back to his wife who him would ignore…