I’ll be 38 at the gate
And it will be 2028
When they seal their fate
The 2nd death
But don’t hold your breath
The alien brain
Doesn’t know how to play games
———-
Now there are bubbles in it, Hitler:
You beat my head with a spoon,
And I put a lighter to your dick.
Found that you have none
And I was surprised!
But I survived–
you didn’t.
Your hubris could survive
My perfect physicality.
———-
Pemberly:
It was just a premonition from the past
That just came up to bite me in the ass.
———-
21 hens
For all of my mens
The size of big bens
And all of them tens
I get the best of them
———-
237 of my men,
not all of them mine.
41 guys
Not all of them size
Being a prick
Ain’t one of their lies.
———-
500 big gigantic dicks in this world
21 is not true of that girl
400 people cry
Because they cannot lie
About their robot inside
———-
I’ll live on a farm
With a giant ass barn
In Atlanta
Mylanta
Sylanta
Kylanta
Dylanta.
———-
Together we’ll stand
On top of the land
That made it a band
And all of it sand–
Paramour.
———-
Beneath our feet
Suddenly street
And now we eat
And play baseball in that street
———-
What about a lake
That we had a clambake
And we suddenly ache
Cuz we don’t want to
Live there.
———-
Seventy-six trombones led the big parade
With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.
They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuo-
Sos, the cream of every famous band.
Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun
With a hundred and ten cornets right behind
There were more than a thousand reeds
Springing up like weeds
There were horns of every shape and kind.
There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons
Thundering, thundering all along the way.
Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons,
Each bassoon having it’s big, fat say!
There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery
Thundering, thundering louder than before
Clarinets of every size
And trumpeters who’d improvise
A full octave higher than the score!
