I can cause death with my dying
my breath belying; strength never shying
I can make the roads to nowhere
appear everywhere; leave you all threadbare!
Every hope for the wicked may end up like a duck in cricket
What did they do to me in my sublimity; they raped my divinity!
They ought to go, now, and suck it; drown in a bucket
Your foundry of devilry was just a premature revelry
I know who deserves justice and who retribution. God never grants anyone any impunity!
There are panic buttons on your shirt; go lick your own dirt!
I didn’t lift my skirt to give your disgusting evil birth!
You have no brass only crass, like a hideous treacherous murderous cutlass
Now pitter patter in water, with Prakash Saint Paul, every successive Christmas!
That makes Labor’s legitimacy standing on a rock of fragile glass!
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