Where’s my fucking Fanta, motherfucking cocksucker
and you’re not even good at it, artisans take pride
in work done well
but you’re not of them, are you? You’re just pumpy pumpy
spurt goblin madman, a lemming over the cliff
praying for a better tomorrow, stupid, take no pride
in your punishment, been asleep for months
in a great coma, now where’s my fucking fanta!
You don’t know never knew and won’t ever
understand the breaks or why they happen
the way they do, see this is the god finger
going right in your eye, we’re all pawns
in a maggot blender
begging for scraps, man, so take what you can
get when they throw it away, dress it up
marking it new, off-brand lazy philosophy.
With your new threads they will call
stylish, convince yourself of purpose
meaning and progress, stepping banana peel
of short counts, the world is a poison pit
all and sundry escape, eventually, so no
point is farther than simply to enjoy
what you can, spit on the ground.