I am the mad bastard's sphyncter
The mad bastard perches atop a table, vericose eyes wide in indulgant insanity. Standing upon the moral highground, to better dodge the asanine artillery, he preaches to the unwashed monkey masses:
"
Your sin slip is showing, the fallopean incubator cut by freudian snips! Oh ye of little faith, fall upon your faces and tremble at my mighty words!
Sacreligious sarcasm stings in stereophonic soliloquy. Metered matching mutterings bother mutter, dear, go play in the street.
"
The irises of the mad bastard dialate, pinpricks of hatred and evil, his calloused sandled feet do a riverdance.
"
Stand and deliver, for I take mine with mushroom and extra cheese! Garrote the garagedays, gerrymander the polls! Cry bivuac! and let loose the gods of door! That this foul seed shall smell above the mirth with holyhardon men, moaning for release!
Yes yes, glance at thy neighbor in disbelief, and partake of the very air of your own misdeeds!
We are such stiff stuff as dreams and creams are made on, our little strifeful life, is rounded and compounded with a sleep!
Reason fades, twists, deceiptful in its tepid turbulence, baptised by gas enshrouded water, when the lips of politicians and sane men touch them.
Oh ye Pirhanas of guilt and dispair, flee at my black and bitter blood! Taste not my bile lest I infect ye with the truth!
"
"
Your sin slip is showing, the fallopean incubator cut by freudian snips! Oh ye of little faith, fall upon your faces and tremble at my mighty words!
Sacreligious sarcasm stings in stereophonic soliloquy. Metered matching mutterings bother mutter, dear, go play in the street.
"
The irises of the mad bastard dialate, pinpricks of hatred and evil, his calloused sandled feet do a riverdance.
"
Stand and deliver, for I take mine with mushroom and extra cheese! Garrote the garagedays, gerrymander the polls! Cry bivuac! and let loose the gods of door! That this foul seed shall smell above the mirth with holyhardon men, moaning for release!
Yes yes, glance at thy neighbor in disbelief, and partake of the very air of your own misdeeds!
We are such stiff stuff as dreams and creams are made on, our little strifeful life, is rounded and compounded with a sleep!
Reason fades, twists, deceiptful in its tepid turbulence, baptised by gas enshrouded water, when the lips of politicians and sane men touch them.
Oh ye Pirhanas of guilt and dispair, flee at my black and bitter blood! Taste not my bile lest I infect ye with the truth!
"