To slip the surly bonds of earth
And flash my ass at God
The poor kids in their base currency
Of memetics and – just a bunch of jokes
Distract themselves pointing at my DICK
‘His rocket looks like a cock’ huh huh
Butt-head games are necessary
To dissuade the anger of the rabble
The news coverage was a windfall
But the feeling of being weightless
AND at the same time – having upon me and
Giant Cock – The Eyes of All The World
The scientists who work for me, have bla bla
Done wonders, made these boosters bla bla recoverable
Re-usable, don’t concern yourselves with your dying
World young prime competitive types
You wanna know how it felt
When the chute releases, and you laugh your bald fucking face off
Knowing a million anarchists express some muffled disappointment
That you didn’t explode
- I tell you, my rocket wasn’t recovered unto the earth
The earth recovered itself to me
Like a fire spray facial to the ex wife who took
Half of the empire in the divorce
Atlas, upon his shoulders, carries the whole world
I am a new born, earth-shed space baby, my snake skin unravels and falls out of the sky
Upon an unbelieving populace in shock at the present
I will be your supervillain
Look up into the sky
It’s your boy Jeff, – and yesss I called it ‘Blue Origin’
Because my slaves, placing bricks into
a pyramid, a scheme, a tribute, to ME
Ain’t seen nothing yet
The Haunted Typewriter 