Trip Like I Do

I got the brain-fuck cope of a schizo vet. I got the state school try, no respect. I got the let-the-world-burn of a laughing monk. I got the fuck the poor of an elitist punk. I got the self-respect, satisfaction of a smug bell-boy. I got the put-away, done, of a "played with that toy." I got the facts of life of a rich man's wife. I got the snowflake kiss of a jacking-knife. I got the Sisyphus virtue of a Frenchie chef. I got the hairy-leg stank of a hottie meuf. I got the dynamic forte of a systems pro. I got the buzzing hum of a drum's neon glow. I got the naughty Moses grim of a feather in my cap. I got the wandering in life and no need of a map. I got the pure hearted devotion of the shepherd king. I got the lion flaming stare of a zero ring. I got the crushed spirit wince of a blackened sheep. I got the advertisement of a perverted creep.