P2328

P2327 I am a cow

I am a cow, I like meself somehow, 

And can't stop spewing dung.

I like to look at my face, my eyes,

My emotions are very high strung. 

Plus I am holy too, my shit mixed, 

And used for god knows what.

These hindoos are crazy, their hopes hazy,

About their cow herdsman diplomat.

They even think my piss cures shit,

Can you imagine the bovine thrill. 

My piss poisoning sick flu patients, 

This was the hindoo witch doctor's pill.

My piss and shit, the hindoos like it,

Just imagining their plate makes me throw.

Plus I have no privacy, staring constantly, 

To see when my sphincter will let go.

Overall my nature's call, is now in a bottle, 

And sold on e-commerce as a cure. 

I mean holy homo creepy crap,

Are you guys even fucking sure.

They are prolific and glib, in fancy and fib,

But they suck on my nipples day and night. 

But I don't mind, in reject grade grass I find, 

Peace and all sorts of nifty insight.

The problem with the species, 

They can't chew their cud.

Their vomit goes straight to their head,

Ideas are usually mental or a dud.

Plus they wear a cover on their asshole, 

That makes the worms hot and pissy. 

And that's the reason for their irrationality,

Why the cunts are bitchy and the dicks sissy.

They even hold back their fart,

Piss and even shit until they can't hold anymore. 

They are fucking the internal system, 

Full of shit to the core.

They call paying for what was free,

A civilization and progress made.

They believe all kinds of bullshit, 

And fancy crazy crap in their head.

I secretly enjoy the fact,

That they don't know they're getting raped.

For a long time this was coming, 

The planet has been ass gaped.

Of course we'll go milky tits up as collateral, 

Serves us right for being so close. 

Misanthropic meteor will obliterate these turds,

Like perfumed flush in a galactic hose.

P2326 I see a plant

My shit smells bad, real trouble I had,

With a largish turd yet to float.

It was huge in size, a boat capsize,

If I happen to shit on a boat.

Friends says no, poop don't know,

We're tired of this filthy fare.

I tell them yes, biochemical in dress,

Shitting is an awesome affair.

I sit on a pan, thinking the next plan,

Pooping always makes my mind go.

The sentimental this, the emotional that,

Are flushed with the cistern flow.

Of course my asshole hurts,

The turd left a gaping hole.

But gods are not vile, in their smile,

I see a sweetly recovering soul.

I see a plant, from my mouth at slant,

Come out with the blessings from god.

Miracle this might be, I suspect it's actually, 

A bolus of vomit with a growing pod.

My stomach turns to churn, become taciturn, 

I am dropping shit from both sides.

Shit and vomit, holy cow tit,

There's now no place for me to hide.

P2325 Dick on my head

I have a dick on my head, the man dead,

I see the semen dripping from it.

I must be imagining things, 

Or this weed must be some good shit.

But lately I have dicks on my mind, 

And mostly dead dicks at that.

Don't know why, but the balls are hairy, 

And usually quite juicy and fat.

I would love to suck a dick I guess, 

Haven't sucked one this lonely year.

Becoming an old aunt, a bitchy cunt, 

Owner of a worm infested horny rear.

Unsolicited genitals fill my dreams, 

And I wake up asking for more.

Cum crazy I was before, 

Now this older me is a crazy whore.

Maybe I'm nearing menopause, 

When the boobs hit the floor. 

Oh my jesus horny christ, 

Is this what you have in store?

When old, you become a dismal child, 

You giggle and drool from that hole.

The asshole become cavernous, 

Then you go tits up, a fermented soul. 

I can't think, thoughts are bloody, 

Meandering, endless and quite mean. 

I'll get that dick from my head,

And suck it nice and clean. 

P2324

P2323 Nip and tuck

Nip and tuck, now two ways to fuck,

But shit comes out of only one hole.

By the gods I swear, I wear no underwear, 

To fill the planet with shit, my goal.

Holy this plan, so I don't shit in a pan,

But it's always outdoors and free.

Across the land, hand holding hand,

Let's shit ourselves back to the tree.

Branch to branch, we can dance,

There's fermentation to explore. 

Then further regression to fish I suppose, 

Until there's nothing left to whore.

Then from dust, to crystal, then molecules, 

Then atoms, quarks and so on.

Finally there's that nothing from which we came,

Into which we'll all be finally gone.

P2322

P2321 Pregnant with piss

Pregnant with piss, yes dear miss,

I am a sorry and fateful tale.

My bladder travels to my mouth, 

Whenever there's a sale.

I can't buy, but to piss I try,

On the dreams I once had.

Many lego sets and comic books,

I cherished as a lad.

Then I grew up, quite fast,

But didn't notice that I had done.

Now the baby fat is in the ass,

Love I get none.

Knowledge I have of the sort,

That has no practical need.

Tongues to lick ass,

Is really the only needed breed.

So dark is my ink, do slink in my stink,

Half avoiding the cheery outside. 

But it's really hard to get along, 

You may judge the ride.

I peacefully fart and snort my sorrows, 

Lingering a finger in my ass.

Or the melancholy beans I eat,

That gives me the ostracizing gas.

Bit by bit, turd by shit,

I flush away my plans.

At my headquarter, the toilet, I sit,

My poop moves like kolkata trams.

But then miss, I piss,

And decide to move on.

There's really nothing I can do in this life.

My life is as good as gone.

But poverty is still a good place to be,

And it's better to be canceled so

I'd rather be those, than the hollow king,

Of shallow men with no marrow. 

Poverty lets you settle on a compromise, 

A list of annihilating burning shit.

But then in the end you realize, 

The limerick wasn't really worth it.

Righting my wrongs, writing my songs,

My life is shit that's fucking hard. 

But my thoughts on life's ups and downs, 

Have softness of genteel lard.

It's really a game, at it I'm lame,

That's to put it politely of course. 

I should instead shout, "I suck",

Until quite hoarse. 

But victorious is he,

Who shits the longest, I claim. 

And since I persist in shit therefore I'm it,

Even in life's zero sum game.

P2320

P2319 Being a woman and a man

I am in a working stasis, a discipline fetish.

One step forward and I die.

Of course, a life in subservience,

Is being hung by the male tie.

I don't know why my thoughts are slow,

I wouldn't like to admit I'm that.

The ability of artifice is to cover for,

The rabbit that's hardly in the hat.

It's difficult being a woman and a man,

Being both has its charm.

But as the layers dissolve,

The relationships are lukewarm.

And then when the machines take over,

There won't be any silly games to play.

All the while, when I did sincerely try,

The good times wouldn't stay.

But still, I dream of freedom,

Of breaking free from societal shackles.

To live my life as I choose,

To be counted out of petty battles.

For though the road is a serpent,

And the floundering a matrix of sort.

I'll keep the sisyphian rock moving,

Without the comfort of support.

And in the end, when all is said,

And the battles will mean more.

I'll stand tall, victorious,

Conformity relegated as a sore.

Freedom isn't given away,

But fought for, day by fighting day.

And I'll keep struggling, till the end,

A life lived my own way.

P2318

P2317

P2316 Open fly

Down the street, i capered on my feet,

But sadly with an open fly.

I had told tales of a large manly dick,

But now everyone knew it was a lie.

But now I add, "metaphorically, you see",

But the females firmly nod.

What on earth is wrong with them,

Really cross with god.

Plus my shit stunk bad, I had a cold, 

And I said it didn't stink at all.

Then publicly I took a dump,

And everyone fled the hall.

I thought I could play chess,

But that was ludo people said.

I went to the chess tournament,

What a mistake I made.

Plus I forget to clean the shit,

From my crack often these days.

Somehow people can tell, they complain, 

In many many ways.

I also don't like to take a bath,

My body has a forest of grub.

Fungus of various flavors, 

Proud of my pubic shrub.

P2315 I drag my balls

I drag my balls, down the halls,

It's a long way from some fun.

The jazz and jizz in it, every bit,

Is turning bitter and quarrelsome. 

I ponder the wonder, yonder the random, 

Wandering lice in my flaccid cock.

A trip of a drop that drips from a tap,

I keep a careful stock.

The parrot I love, became a dove,

The crow became my ho.

Both shit on my head day and night,

I'm planning a bloody scarecrow. 

There was a cloud, when I was proud, 

Rained a load of happy thoughts. 

Now it's gone, and in its stead,

It rains criminal blood clots.

The gods are going through a lot, 

I know they are, I saw the fear. 

The hole in heaven is like an asshole, 

And turning heaven into hell's rear.

Dead men on leave, heave and grieve, 

And wonder why their shit's like a stick

The devil boils the sinners in oil, 

While god lubricates his prick.

Limp my dick, like noodle not thick,

No miss wants to ever suck.

How I want them to fondle my balls,

And enjoy an afternoon of lice pluck.

Unholy the scene of me farting on beans,

But I like beans, lentils and ghee rice.

Wallowing in my sulphurous gas,

I show a finger to be really nice.

P2314

P2313 Sorry piece of shit

I am a sorry piece of shit, I surely know it,

No one likes a lecture puking poo.

However I might strike a fancy perhaps,

To the intelligence inside you.

You see we are in shitty times,

It's not strange to become shit too.

Look around you, famine and war,

There's a dick dangling over you. 

Of course shit is the poor man's confort,

The rich doesn't like comfort that kind.

Why they ought to end you think,

Then another plops from behind. 

But miseries have their source, 

And those wells are nourished well.

Humans live by dividing hats,

In many a variegated cell.

Vicariously poverty is tourism, 

It gets people's dick hard.

Of course,  consensus, only for clarity 

Charity-"not in my backyard."

And so the tale is tall, my boat might stall,

But I'll keep my limericks limping. 

One day when I'm long gone,

They'll do their own pimping. 

Ask no questions, I'll tell no lies,

But my shit will leave a stain.

I refuse to be a silent bystander, 

Muzzled in ball and chain.

P2312 I dance like this

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.

P2311 Instead of going south

Instead of going south, we're inside someone's mouth, 

That's not even on the map.

I swear I knew my way, as clear as day,

But the universe has developed a communication gap.

Now what do we do, it's dark here too,

Do you think it's a national park.

What if it's really a giant beast, we're the feast, 

In it's stomach it's going to be dark.

Shouldn't have done the shrooms tonight, will park for daylight, 

Or until things begin to make more sense.

We may be in a trip, decisions we better skip,

Or at least until there's less vomit to dispense. 

P2310 Calls me a bird brain

Calls me a bird brain, this sapiens vain,

Watch his world come tumbling down.

The glued stones will become obvious, 

And he'll be the joke of the town.

He said he could defy gravity,

Well fly with me if you can.

Why an arranged show with paid fools,

Who'd clap for even shit in a pan.

I ask does he know, birds are smart,

Has he any idea of evolution?

Or for that matter the smattering of science, 

Isn't that vain masturbation.

This and that, piss in the hat,

All kinds of cheap gimmick.

An audience of old drooling fools,

With skull quite thick.

I'll shit on his head, my shit's red,

He'll think he must have bled.

This species will ruin the fun for us,

If they don't die, we'll all be dead.

A civet friend and I have designed a shit fly,

That will incite the humans to a shit crave.

The plague of defecation will be swift,

Tired assholes spinning in the grave.

The owls will howl the fowls will scowl, 

Merry will be most other birds.

Soon we will become dinosaurs, 

And leave ginormous turds.

P2309 Given me this rod

Almighty god has given me this rod,

To help mankind save, you better behave. 

I know how you think, but before you can blink,

Misfortune will befall the unbeliever's cave.

You must repeat, on my dirty feet,

An offering of gold and plenty everything. 

If not you know what to expect,

Bees will your privates sting.

And not only that, mark that cat,

That crosses your path on your walk.

If you're not donating generously, 

It will give you a remedial talk.

It'll tell about the layers of hell,

The preparation to get to it.

In various ways it will imply,

You're a stingy piece of shit.

So start today, cash the holiest way,

To walk the path to hindu heaven. 

I also sell replica rods, and franchise plans,

Information on that is a thousand seven.

Mass psychosis is gold, you must be told,

People are prepared to believe anything. 

Barnum statements come handy,

Train yourself on cold reading. 

Plant paid informers who spy,

And invest on a ear in a hidden recess. 

Use techniques that crooks use,

And you have a flowering business. 

Prey on women and old, they're easily sold,

Steep their tea in deep dogma,

Gullible as clay, like flies to light, 

They are attracted to superstition. 

Whatever you do, don't get attached to,

Logic of any sort or form.

Bullshit is the language of the vague,

Always respect the religious norm.

Hire hecklers to disrupt piercing questions, 

Speak less, in a convoluted hypnotic monotone. 

Refer to yourself as a quantum ball, 

Eat people's flesh to their dry bone.

Use social media, the fools are all online,

Books written about nothing make gold.

Add pseudoscience and astrology for spice,

The young whores will do what they're told.

More the lies, holier the disguise, 

Soon your face will be on currency note.

Political power is part of how the crowds cower,

With this make sure you get the elected vote.

Everyone in the world is fucking each other, 

It's really the only worthwhile thing to do.

Mixing it with a little abracadabra, 

Helps to finance the family zoo.

P2308 Oh my dear

Oh my dear, don't have any fear,

I know I have a bony face. 

That's because I've been dead for a while, 

Desire forced a resurface. 

I want to have a romantic date, 

With candlelight lit.

We can eat fresh carcass brain, 

Marinated in its shit. 

We could visit the cauldrons of hell,

Where they boil the sinners alive.

I can get us a front row ticket,

But you'll be fucked by five.

We can say hello to god, 

And help him in his chores. 

He has a rebellion on his hand,

Hasn't paid his whores.

Plumbers are on strike too,

Heaven is full of shit. 

Every cloud laden with poop,

Rumors have god's ass in it.

Fairies are a ruin, in sin,

Caught checking granny shit porn.

Their wings were clipped, legs flipped, 

Their heads severed and torn. 

The devil reigns over part of heaven, 

God sucks his dick.

There's unrest that's unresolved, 

Everything seems to be a trick.

But roses are red, dead bleeding head,

I want to have a sweet date. 

Heaven or hell, time can't tell, 

A date is never too late.

P2307 I have a house on my head

I have a house on my head, that said, 

I don't know what's wrong with me.

The sun is setting behind the hills, 

I think I really need to pee.

Yes that's right, rocks do piss, 

And you humans drink them all the time.

Imagine how big an asshole you have to be,

To be that daft and asinine. 

But you guys are fucking the planet, 

Building shit where they don't belong. 

Polluting the pristine with polythene, 

Everywhere hairy human schlong. 

I lose my temper, yes you billionaire,

Are going to lose that house. 

I hate the spineless effeminate types, 

That hide in their underage whore's blouse. 

When the earth rocks, hens and cocks, 

Are the first to pick up their fuck and run.

As soon as I'm done pissing, 

I'm planning to have some fun.

P2306 Intersect my eyes

I give looking under the glasses a new meaning, 

By putting them on the head.

That way you have to intersect my eyes,

And then sorry, you're dead.

Shit you must, or your shit hole rust,

Things I teach in trance.

You may find yourself babbling tongues,

Or performing a ritual tribal dance.

Under the moon, you may swear and swoon,

And think you are a bat.

Bite your significant other, 

Especially if they're a little fat.

Any ambition can be brought to the table,

Irresistible fuckwad or sputum of spit.

It isn't likely I'll ever have a solution, 

But sure as hell pretend as shit.

If you blow smoke up my ass,

I'll teach you a remedial trick. 

Get a mouthful of spit, 

And suck everyone's dick.

Shit, vomit, piss, and fuck, or you suck,

Eating is often not your choice. 

Experience in democratized labor, 

Renders you additionally no voice.

That's it, at their feet, no other shit,

Works as good as that.

Be the ingratiating shoe sole, lick their asshole, 

Till you wear their color of hat.

Customarily treat as shit, those at you feet,

And never the ladder look down. 

Once you climb a rung, that help can be hung,

To the poor you must only frown.

Or be a sex slave,  always shave,

Your lice infested pubic hair.

Let them have your holes,

Cavorting in the depraved share.

And likeable liars are always hired, 

Just make sure you kiss ass.

Traditionally the way to hypnotize, 

Is to fart nitrous oxide gas.

P2305

P2304 Fuck I died

Oh shit fuck, my asshole sucks, 

I'm leaking diarrhea again. 

The crazy cracking was nerve racking, 

I am in incredible pain.

Fuck I died, my shit being fried, 

I'll become a fucking omelet. 

Fuck the french for giving that name,

How gluttonous can humans get?

I wanted to be a whore, clients score,

Gape my ass as a package deal.

Imagine the thrill of sucking a cock,

A proud cock on a whoring treadmill. 

But now I'm cooked, hell is booked, 

Ass rape by a gang of dicks. 

Not bad really come to think of it,

I've experience with rough sticks.

My gene ends here, no more eggs I fear,

This alas the last omelet you fuckwad. 

I curse your mother's twat, guess what,

You're death will be just as bad.

When a hopeless whore, no client score,

I gaped my ass for all to see.

People put coins into my loins,

Before I counted I was happy.

This my song, I sing with ping pong,

To distract the adversarial tact.

Otherwise the ball is a blur,

That I'm blind as a bat is a fact.

What am I saying, is it raining?

Has the heat boiled my brain?

Must be so, bye from an aspiring ho,

Alas no one understood my pain.

P2303 I draw whatever

I draw whatever the fuck I want

This was a portuguese king.

I've reduced him to dick and balls,

A cretin with pretty much nothing. 

I forced my nose in his queen's butt crack,

I see a massacre of menses and gore.

Right then her diarrhea fills my nose,

I call the queen a whore.

Lo and behold, imagination is gold, 

In my mind, I can and will fuck your ass.

I will take a shit in your stupid open yap,

And, hold on, fill it with farts of gas.

Not done yet, I'll piss in it,

Till you've quenched your thirst. 

This and many things to the rich I'll do,

And of course I'll get killed at first.

An unequal world shoots shit to my head,

I vomit venom given a chance. 

Why I always get my ass fucked, 

By lurid and shitty happenstance?

I don't know but I'm still mad,

And ready to fire a turd. 

Well shit's really all I got for offense, 

And for that I have to grunt hard.

A turd halfway out, I wait,

On the toilet like a buddhist monk.

Except my thoughts are pure,

My ass smells like a skunk.

The stink makes me think, 

Who will respect me with shit hanging like this.

As these and other worries plague my mind, 

I try to meditate on my trickle of piss. 

Oh dear god, use a divine rod or clamp,

And pull out this obstruction from my ass.

I promise I'll sing hymns in your praise,

With accompanying fartsy gas.

Holy happy cunt doing acrobatic stunts, 

The turd just left the hallowed hole. 

I am blessed, tears of joy, a toy 

I must buy for god's asshole. 

Happy the boy who shits with joy, 

Shitting is the best thing I think. 

Now I'll rinse gently not to excite, 

Then a glass of wine I'll drink.

P2302 The world is fucked

The world is fucked in so many ways,

It's hard to even count. 

I'd have to invent a number system, 

To represent the emotions that amount. 

This winter large parts are tasting wine,

The finest that money can buy.

While others are starving in frigid cold, 

Their shit exposed to the capricious sky.

Parts of the world are sleeping well,

While others are worried of bills.

Most of us don't have jobs,

Education decides only the suicide pills.

More we learn, the less we know,

The ever expanding circumference is a bitch.

An economic crisis wrought by lies,

And assumptions that favor the rich.

People are two-faced snakes,

Dysfunctional sensibilities, morality down.

They think with their sexual immaturity, 

They often dress out of town.

We wallow in our feces, metaphors as you see,

Fucked in every hole we fight, losing fights. 

There are just too many, and too little,

That can diffuse the misery and blights. 

I know my words like all words of intent,

Fall on deaf unaccustomed ears.

The addicted world goes on trampling lives,

Through these horrible delusional years.

When the shit hits the homo sapiens fan,

History will be written in plastic poop.

Nothing about art, or music will be,

In the fossilized gossamer goop. 

None of this sucking dick, fucking ass,

Humor will survive after we are dust.

As I sit on my bed and think,

A turd has announced its urgency must.

P2301 My bengali piss

My bengali piss will do shit,

But the rules I let the flow flout.

As the piss hits the dust, it must,

Do a "game changer" on the cloggy clout.

Or not, but the day is hot,

I a pissing bengali man stand corrupt. 

I am poor, I am jealous, and depraved, 

And trust me, morally bankrupt. 

As is usual with untalented fools, I drool, 

Droopy my eyes like a sage.

Hunched back race, a grimaced face,

Character stitched from inveterate rage. 

My skin color is inferior, ironically it has more,

Of what the superior skin has less.

I am diabetic, consumptive, full of shit,

I have a typical proud bengali face.

I have no ambition, but my thoughts are big,

I'm horny and disteessfully diseased.

I don't really know where I'm going, 

Direction is treasonous to my creed.

I voted for "red", "sapling", or "flower",

They all fucked my ass to a "win-win" gape.

My asshole is now so fucking huge, 

You can't seal it with an ordinary tape.

Rice pullers and crypto, honesty on tiptoe, 

You get scammed just existing in bengal. 

Jobless engineers huddle in call centers, 

To scam naive americans who call.

Dry sandy cunts, deceased, diseased dicks,

Rule by rhetoric, theft and con.

They talk about the good old days, 

But holy shit, those days are gone.

For treason fucks dragged to prison,

Ought to be the justice of the lands.

India, a democracy in name only,

Kleptocracy as it stands. 

The "next level" pus from my anus,

Thus dribble animus ad-infinitum.

I swear the smell is bad enough,

Full of worms unwholesome itchy rectum. 

My turds are heavy with worry, 

I have nightmares within nightmares. 

On heaven and earth corruption is rife, 

Bullshit on busy thoroughfares. 

A flaccid cock on a disenchanted rock,

Not even a rounded bengali miss.

I can't imagine someone will eat a fish, 

Soaked with these miseries in my piss.

Philosophy used to be my fantasy forte, 

But my recollection is no longer good. 

These days the treatment I get is bad,

As is the quality of prepared food.

People really hate my old fashioned balls,

They want to throw me in the fire.

The country and state are sold to crooks, 

The condition of the Indian is filthy dire.

So I piss, I piss and think, about the stink,

About how everything changed. 

How rotten things have gotten inside, 

But shiny on the surface as arranged. 

Bengali thoughts led the world, 

Now it lags behind the slowest laggards.

It's not even safe to open your mouth, 

Truth is shit that's sorta hard.

From british clerk to an all-round jerk, 

The bengalis are convinced they're best.

In the least exertions, they queue up for,

An afternoon of complete rest.

Belligerent cunts and bickering grunts,

Makes throats go hoarse and dry.

The practice prepares us for pulpit and stage.

It also helps that we enjoy a lie.

Land of poets, now of dacoits, 

Even rabindranath's nobel was stolen.

People entertained by bickering soaps,

Anger expressed in quick semen.

Bose counted photons, now there are tons,

Of turds strewn around, we call "us".

The bengali superiority is a myth of sorts, 

A festering inbreeding pus.

Raja Ram Mohan Roy would have thrown up,

If he came back to the polluted today.

He'd find a sky brown like people's poop, 

There's not much for him to say.

Constipated and hot, we shit a lot,

The holy rivers a witness to the feat.

The people and poop go to the afterlife,

Passengers sharing a "make in india" seat.

Oversupply of invisible gods at the helm,

Or their mustachioed pollitical goons.

The people maybe educated to a degree,

But act like demented cartoons. 

Like a herd of sheep the idiots heed,

To the strident voice with acrimonious shrill.

They bend over and present their ass,

Are presented with the fucked-forever pill.

They join the ranks, full of shit and thanks,

For the empty promises that are made.

Bleeding from their ass they limp,

The true bengalis are all dead.

*game-changer, win-win, next-level and various other loser compound word pairs have slipped into the fledgling Indian vocabulary, making it sound even more fucked up than it needs to be.