I've been to the desert. There's no water,
and no barbers, and less moisture. My soul's tarnished,
I left Des Moines in my old Charger, now stuck in a real life maze
My sanity's trapped in a seal-tight case -
been stumbling through death valley's armpit for what feels like days
About to freefall off this reddish cliff. Fuck the ledge.
The grass is greener on the other side...this one's much too dead
My tongue has bled & the canteen's out. Tastes like dirt regardless
Mother Nature's a brutal whore and the Earth's a harlot
I've got sand in my eyes. Thankfully not pubic lice
But my dick already fell off from heat exposure so I'm screwed at life.
I moved too right and now I'm defunct of luck
This broken compass ain't helping. I feel my stomach lurch, I'm erupting guts
The rock's face is giving me bad looks, I'm bout to knuckle up
and punch this clump of rotten ***tus...til I find a sign that instantly makes me better
It reads: "COME INSIDE CHYEAH'S ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE MAKESHIFT FORT, AND BE SAFE FOREVER."
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