A wall of words
To protect and preserve

I’m like a pig with a sty
I poke out my mind’s eye

That I keep from the general public,
As I scribble only a little above the toilet.

See, wit is my sharpie,
My demons like harpies.

Preparing for my self-immolation,
Or self-prescribed, mental-masturbation.

Merely clever plays of appellation
Courtesy a digital thesaurus
From the “Steve Job’s Apple Nation.”

Got simple languages,
Plotting complex images,

Syntax Stripping,
Mind ripping,
Rind nipping,

Poppin’ melons of rage,
Like Gallagher’s stage,

Releasing my brain juice
I’m Electric Kool-Aid induced.

Was doin’ fine ‘til the tar pipe ran out
Then I left for a year of fear and doubt.

Left for a year of fun in the sun,
Left for a year of Lil’ Stevie’s big gun.

Now, I sit, high, in the hills
While the Man wishes me there, still

Not wishing anything or anyone ill,
But always, I am, and doing as I will.

So, for self-protection,
And self-reflection

I’ll just keep writin’,
As I ain’t much for fightin’.

To protect and preserve,
I’ve got a wall of words.

I’ve got no apology
I did what I did guilt free

I’m part of the great tradition
From war one and on until perdition

See, this mercenary thing ain’t new
We needed only the proxy of Gee Dub and you

They called us the bonus babies
We were supposedly spoilt and lazy

Yeah, we came from farms and factory towns
The lands are barren and industry’s no longer around

We saw our people struggle for years, then finally lose their livings
We can’t eat free-market dreams or live beneath god’s good intentions

We got loved ones to feed
We’re only takin’ what we need

The oppression of a people was our great achievement
Creating a future primed for some major appeasements

You hired a finger to pull the trigger on your fears
Now I figure we’ll be dealing with what I did for years

Nonetheless, I got no apology
No, you’ll get nothing outta me

At the end of the day mostly we needed the money
When I put it like that it’s neither poetic nor funny

Bobby’s mom needs a new trailer
Meltoid’s old lady snorts every dime he can mail her

Worthy goals for sure
But nothing anyone would die for

In a defensive posture
We did some damage for sure

With bodies mangled
And brains scrambled

We came home to you
No, this mercenary thing ain’t new
Don’t need no one to forgive me
And I still got no apology