The Grid and the Shock

The grid, the gauntlet Fingers run across it Paying close attention To the style and flourish. Whirling dervish. I am the samurai who walks alone. Through the marsh, among the reeds, I see Through a mask. My armor is rain-streaked, and my mission is holy. I build images out of ether, And either stories out of images Or forged weapons for the free To wheel around and slay one another. This is my pistol, this is my gun This one’s for fighting, this one’s for cumming all over my lover’s face Because I’m secretly pissed off at my mother. SHOCKING! It’s about disrespect, see.  It’s about disgrace. I am the samurai who walks in his sleep. My armor is rain-streaked.  My mission is holey. Are you sure I’m who you want me to be? The grid occurs nowhere in nature. And I, I do dream of holograms.  I dream of fantasy castles and prancing unicorns Because whimsical isn’t sexual. Nature doesn’t censor the rainbow. Leave that to the self-loathing, God-fearing Republicloset cases On their knees praying and blowing a cop in the bathroom. I’m not afraid to be uncomfortable, to say uncomfortable things. But would it be okay To abort all the gays? If you had your way, We’d stone them today. I used simple words there to connect to you.  The ones I’m really talking to. The ones brought up on Dr. Seuss Who never got out of Who-ville. I do not like Greens, Fags, and Dems, I do not like them Uncle Sam I Am! Yeah, well you’re stupid, and you’re evil. You’re the ones that build new Hoovervilles beneath the heel of the American boot. You’re like the Retarded Devil. You’ve nailed your tail to the ground and now you’re pouting about it. I’d loan you my soul but you wouldn’t know what to do with it. Would you chew on it, like an idiot? Would you dress it up, make a move on it? Try to prove that you’re smooth without getting drool on it You fucking troglodytic, parasitic, titty baby banging a silver spoon on your high chair.