Why waste good curse words on any old boy
When they make a bigger impact thrown at a son?
Hell hath no fury like a man gone mad
With middle age and a useless back.
So just spit rage with plastic and metal
And mourn your disappointing offspring
With loud harsh words and a boot to the groin.
What good is a salary to play a frozen game
When dead pathetic silence is the ultimate cost?
All those anonymous parents nodding their heads
Convincing themselves what's good in the end is a
Sociopath teaching their children with rubber bullets.
But before you know it he'll have the bruises to show it
And you'll feel like a pimp with the money you raised.
Why waste your time sharing your thoughts when
He became everything you wanted but lost?
This third hand smoke from celebrity cancer
Is not gonna spread in the way that you want,
And all the protection that he says is weak will
Only prolong your sense of defeat.
So go on, enjoy it; the cycle's complete.
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