RAKJ

And he and his love,

prance in their future.

Curled and entwined,

she strokes his face.

And he and his wretched smile,

gall me to Wednesday.

His mind is weak,

he has excrement for thoughts.

And he and his calm,

and his money.

Fear is not in him,

he should die.

And he and his voice,

he is an oaf.

May he barf in his food,

and choke himself till the end.

And he and his dead stare,

I own them.

His grave should burst,

with maggots and filth.

The trees should yellow,

the rains must dry,

the forests should burn,

I'll see if can try.

Gold teeth and the curse for this town,

were all in my mouth,

Only, I don't know how they got out, dear.

Turn me back into the pet,

I was when we met,

I was happier then,

With no mindset.

And if you'd'a took to me like,

A gull takes to the wind.

Well, I'd'a jumped from my tree,

and I'd danced like a king of the eyesores,

and the rest of our lives would'a fared well.