Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Douche Envy

Merlin ma'am, I mean man...
A gentle spam by any other name
would still spit rhymes that bring him shame.
Now he's spinning his tires like a Nova that don't run,
thinks he's on fire putting together the sum
of all these lyrical points not making sense.
Gotta wonder how some fools can be this dense.

And I suppose
he's beside herself now...

I could have called you a cross-dressing freak,
wearing cosmetics you stole from the brink
of your sanity, or maybe an ex
who got wise to your flaming confusion of sex.
Now you stand at the mirror, your image a gender swap,
ain't no woman like the one you're not.

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