I dance like this, high on piss,
I've quit being sane you see.
It's no point, with loose joints,
I love this manic old me.
I may be mad, when manic not sad,
But quite drunk on the rainbow of life.
I see flowers on fresh turds,
And baroque decor on a bleeding knife.
May not be long, so I sway my schlong,
And declare unhappiness as a fog.
I know just behind me, crouching stealthily,
Is a ferocious black dog.
I know I'll be down, back to a frown,
With my back to the wall.
Nothing to do, a vacuum in situ,
There's no gravity needed in this fall.
And that sink hole is very deep,
Where the superficials can't ever reach.
The tattoo crafted on the ass crack,
Is of an asshole shut with a stitch.
Now I want to shit, and hard at it,
But the turd stops at the stitch.
What started out as imagination,
Is now as real as a bitch.
The gods in tears trembling with fear,
Shit the clouds diarrhea yellow.
The sun shines through them aglow,
Divine coughing sounds like a cello.
In the absence of light, in fearsome blight,
The angels vomit last year's food.
The starving earth rejoice,
At least someone did something good.
From god's shit will spring, a new kind of thing,
An awkward shape with no head.
It will recite hymns to the humans, dawn to dusk,
First they listen, clap, yawn, bored and dead.
The holy headless hooligans with guns,
Make confident and bold hullabaloo.
It reminds me of shit slinging apes,
I find I'm a captive shitting in a zoo.
Thus ends the reign of man,
And I suddenly wake up.
I really doubt anything is really real anymore,
And start pissing madness in a cup.
