sweatbox and flashing lights as I
hear the screams of a stupid cunt but not
the hated kind, the kind I hate
who spits nothing but hate and thinks he’s
so dam great but he don’t understand
nirvana like kurt cobain explained in bloom
he likes all our pretty songs
but knows not what they mean
and her head is still bobbing on top of mine
cuz I’m a miner
and he’s still trying for some sound waves to coarse his fear
against that overcompensating ferrari
while i fuck in a truck with love and his girlfriend
that you couldn’t even drive cuz it’s not street legal
that’s right you’re a cowardly homophobe
blown out babel queefed piece of shit
sucking on nothing but his own thumb
until it gets numb because that’s all he had
not even a mother’s nipple
and there’s nothing he can do to soak up lead
of all the hate in my head
i’ll kill you if you don’t let your ass blow gas out
and then burp a baby cuz i’m gonna make 50000
and leave my trace in the genetic code of god
that listens to us like heaven in the clouds of sunshine
that’s right, you’re the cunt misogynist peace of shit
cum on nirvana, rape me, you sound so damn good
i see god in your girlfriend’s eyes when you’re too scared to look

by Nick LoCicero