Toilet

I hope you choke, you big fat fuck,
Your boarded up windows devoid of luck.
The death that reeks out of your door,
Invites lost souls who want to score.
The exit it doesn't even lock;
Kick it, hard, no need to knock.
I'd daub your boarded panes with red,
If it meant they'd swoop and take you dead.

A wretched whore comes for fix,
Add his girl and dog in the mix.
In daytime you see his fists punch out,
His screams and incoherent spouts.
You deserve nothing you poor lost scourge,
You are gone, your venom is real; an empty purge.

But it is not the one that beats his friends,
It's the one who helps you meet your end.


For the big fat fuck, he never leaves,
The girls visit, ensemble, a sweaty heave.
They sell your wares like sweets to all,
If I were brave, I'd make the call.
But they must know you're here dishing horse,
For my community continues in discourse.

And the poor old man who's next to you,
His windows smashed for what you do.


The man lives in fear; alone, afraid.
Is it worth it for what you've made?
Your mother is proud of what you've built?
If I were her, in your mouth, barrel to hilt.
For what you do you poison and taint...
But, Lucifer is waiting for the greedy saint.
So, open wide and take too much.
I hope you choke, you big fat fuck.