I tuned my thoughts to the Easy Good
Although I’m human, that is apparent
As I take any chance to sink teeth in
I am baring feral with foamy lips
Critic’s nature is so, is some how sad
If not mean and ferocious, in the end
Its all so fucking hysterical
Everything is a coil of shitty joke
I wield expertly as a sturdy yoke
To every fit day, every sad attempt
Atop which I sit filled with contempt
Is it tough to be true? Come on now.
And no, there exists to requisite
Of perfection, just set yourself like me