I feel the change that I want coming. Deep down I know I can’t bear life like this any longer. God is working. Time is moving. My heart is beating. My friends are with me, my family’s watching. What is coming? My dream I hope — the ability to afford all that I please to afford, and the cause being that I am a successful artist in many realms of existence. God grant me this, and I ought open up the world the doors of my perception in hopes of receiving the fateful fulfillment I yearn for endlessly.
There he goes preaching his religion,
The old priest and his gang.
Wasting away their time in division,
While warning me of the flame.
Liar liar, the cursed friar,
Television must have him drained.
What has he read but sappy psalms,
And pornographic magazines?