"The Ballad of John 2012"
...instead of the toughest cookie of these pushy hoodlums
he swung from the hips and snuffed a hooker
bloody knuckle-styled concussive lovin'
- His blood rushing from punching this ugly woman...
He made friends with both the goons and the whore
- mingling to the tune of music and jokes
Muting the row of his soul's usual score
- all the movements composing his "blues at the morgue"
Dancing in lunacy's luminant glow
- the ghostly light of the moon on the floor
Then shooting home in a cab - to his crank reserve
- The taxing turns of a ludicrous soap
withdrawing his tax returns to slash and burn
- on whatever iffy quest for quick success
He would introspect - in "the afterburn"
- whisky breath and the effects of shitty meth
He woke up in a dumpster
- when an ulcer erupted abruptly with thunder
like his stomach was punctured...
- and his entrails were munched on by gluttonous vultures
Like wrath embodied - on crack cocaine
- had attacked his frame and utterly crushed him
His memory fuzzy... inexact and maimed
- Numbingly hungry in a black domain
A trash and waste-jammed compact terrain
- harrowed by massive flames and acid rain
Tramping the path before forced to quit
- by remorse equipped with an assassin's blade
Full throttle towards the shelter of the bottle
from this sweltering debacle, demented and forgotten
pestering and hostile settlement of Sodom
- with nothing but resentment cemented in his morals
The id's many shapes and expressions
- naked aggression from degrading oppression
forms a strident, twisted, nihilistic,
- violent misfit scathing the heavens
trailing the pavement and pervading obsession
with thoughts straying - and fading in seconds
A hellish stinging - his brain bathes in depressants
- as irony's vague omnipresence quells his spirit
When the pain is rigid - ingrained in your essence
You ARE vengeance...
...and can't help but bring it