It was kind of an open, laid back, slam thing

And this dude bro aflame with the spirit takes stage

Proclaims in the voice of the prophet:

“I’m not so much a poet,

but a bringer of shame

You can call me Big Juicy Mellifluous ‘D’

I am here to return the favor

I’m here to Instruct you in the ways of loss.

I come home in a rut, and hear her screaming from behind the door

DIG ME OUT! DIG ME OUT! DIG ME OUT!

yeah

You see, this isn’t my life, nor a fairy tail

This is the receipts of my death

Bed.

I WILL FUCK YOU WHERE YOU SLEEP

That’d be such a serious threat, don’t you think

If it weren’t such a common place thing

I mean, an affair, a tryst, or taking communion,

These are the terms, true love to fling

You might be naive

Some unpunctured waif being

With your hymen unmurdered

You soul may still sing

I am here to say, give it up

Such things are a pretense

And the verb is fucked

As in, we are all this thing

“

I heard him out, we all did

He spoke truth based on how loud he spat it, dang

I would move to comfort someone had they confessed such a pain

In a normal situation, of a soul in disdain

But he chose to play preacher

So I laughed, cause, c’mon ma’n

Whatchu doing here.

Are you hoping for me to lead you to the hem of a garment

Or are you here for the ‘just the tip’ game.

Wherefore all this angry rain?