Self-Portrait
(April 2006)

He was a drunken gentleman
Broke laws all time but never sinned
Would never ever make more kin
And hardly ate his daily din

He huffed when he would walk the stair
Did nothing, hardly combed his hair
But trusting was his kindly stare
He wouldn’t fight you on a dare

Once upon a time he wrote
A simple limmerick from a bloke
And wondering should he have a smoke
Said what the hell because I’m broke

Two, three, four
Walk away
Go and earn some more pay
Before death sees your day
Because your wasting away

You’re not dumb
It’s like you’re sucking your thumb
You think you can have some fun
When your sickness’ a ton.

Why are we even living?
I mean, what’s the point, what to do?
Isn’t it to fight evil?
Or at least what the hell and try to beat the flu?

Another day it will be over
Did you make a buck, did you wage a war?
Who really cares if you’re dead by now?
‘Cause you’ll come back a cockroach if you ever ate cow

Four, three, two

If you should find yourself in hell
Dial skews me com h-t-m-l
I torture ‘serving souls as well
I wish that I had never Fell

The D-o-D they do know me
I loudly claim my blashphemy
And lately people gang stalk thee
Think I’m a creep? They don’t know Chi?

Yahoo, Google, MSN
Search will like me now and then
For people looking for my ven’
Some come back often, I am “in”

Why is the world seeming lazy?
I mean, so much war, and that oil’s a whore
Are are we even goin’ to get by this
When we flush precious fluids down the drain with a piss