Crazing

Yeah, we definitely got it, orifice of offense, you be soaring loftily,
sweet treat, for sale on the street, dressed beyond the elevens,
bugging everyone for a quick and dirty underhanded transaction,
up and up, little girl, you know I wouldn’t steer a stranger wrong!

Uh, because it ain’t you, that’s why, hard to swallow sideways,
relax, take this in deep, like a breath and not your hard rein,
don’t wanna send this lonesome rider over your dim head again,
plunging that whining trap of yours beneath the mud of clichés!

My, what a proud record, living to annoy and badger for profit,
dumping the whole table of champagne into their swimming pool,
in stiletto heels, even, God, there’s no end to your vast talent,
you got me lying on my stomach with fingers grasping a scream!

Right, I can truly appreciate that it’s tough to hear above your spouting,
also with its own residual filthy water clogging up your ears as well,
unintentionally stepping across them biting shards from earlier tantrums,
with me joyously rolling on my back as the distress gushes like a fountain!

See, it ain’t about you, deary, or some obvious stumbling upon fame,
those dominating shouts from your audience are praise of insolence,
easily quashing any mere whisper of dissent under the floorboards,
so one’s check is miraculously shoved into a cold bed of skeletons!

Apologies, I’m sure, but this is hardly an attack worthy of a comeback,
it’s not a defense either if you were ever honestly paying some heed,
simply your automatic button mashed down below the surface of repeat,
vomiting that inbred lineage from a dying program misdealt years ago!