Trish The Ish

Planted barbwires in the brain

Strain the roses while you can

Empathy is out of this world

For it will never come back again

Share your friendship, kill my soul

Kill the wildflowers, stab my heart

Punch the walls and scream real hard

For you don't have a soul anyway

Flame the fire that flames the soul

Black is darkness, and white is coal

I often wonder if you know

Just how crooked and wooked you are

Oh please understand

You are the evil man,

Stars collide because of you

Because your heart is a wicked scheme

A dying meme, nonetheless;

Oh what a story out of the blue

For the clouds cannot see the rain

For you are a mystery to one's demise

Take your books and burn them in hell

And why don't you add yourself to the mix

For you shall die astray

The planted barbwires in your head

Seem like they can burn lightning...

What is the meaning of your life

With your funky glasses and hair?

Douche, douche, touche, touche

You hairy little liar, you suck;

And your sixty years of yearning

Makes me want to grieve some more

I can hardly stand you

But are you at liberty with your face?

All in all I am appalled

By the liberty of the human race,

For Trish the ish

Is a dying fish

I beg you to be scold

And sixty years and counting

On your borrowed face,

A perfect egg omelet seems cheesy

I wander abroad on this darling case

For the mystery is in the book next to the library,

And I wonder about the vault you have stolen

For wise words aren't trapped anywhere

Kiss me now in my ghostly presence

For I am no longer here...