Need for Godspeed

 

Keygen Church Master Boot Record

I

People reason, I think – I Am, then go

to the parlour and have a drink. Let it sink

in, you are what you eat; but for the show

must venture – let me charge your blow:

2 cents for the price of 5 and 10. Some start to tinker

on their bells and seashells, for the silver-tongued glimmer.

Could they eat all the molasses from the bowl...

II

Need for Godspeed, while hitting the breakdance;

rapping on heavens door, too thorn but still meek.

Heathen, but still wreak of the pies de resistance;

the Chaos, what wants to mate with Eris, hence

to beget Harmonia; just to behold, eat your steak

of the Sons, or be overthrown by Zeus bleak!

What will you leave behind, what will you enhance?

III

The Greater Good and Evil, are your True or Farce;

people thinking, their way is the only One, not many.

I Am Hungry – thus many had to take the charge;

few succeeded, most ate sour grapes, enlarged

the dragons and shadows on the walls, manic

in their stupor for giving up. None shall stand thus –

for we failed, its impossible, play possum, Marge!

IV

Havoc in the Maverick dance of chance, still mad;

why did your folly make way, not mine, concubine?

I severed and plotted on gold-diggery now an old hag;

young Sophias venture and get their Prince Charming, rad!

Scorned in Hell, turned Harpy and Gorgon, but I am Fine –

ticketing the competition with angry bulletines, boarding in line;

for the shine, what no rainbow, may pot a leprechaun Brad...

V

What is your IQ or IC or Duh, to be the next Archimedes;

who ran about nude, for Heureka, and a goldsmith lost

his head, most just Emperors Immortales impedes this.

Most knowledge is the dance around the hot porridge, gist

about sleeping in the right bedroom, before the Bears host

some pick the right bed for your happy ending at thy cost!

Some young foxes still hard noggin, to avoid bollocks chemes.

VI

Why should your Sun Shine and your Moon Night;

your Star Glow and your river flow to the promised land!

Many Magicians Arlequin their way to imp-famy blight;

then blame it on the black dog, who ate their homework rites.

Its always the dark side, who's to lame, that your light bland

didn't show. Alas, maybe its the avoidance of dirty your hands:

what differed, to deny access to the fruits of labour on sight.

VII

Who was the seventh generation saint, who a century Oxe;

some walked a mile on water, others burnt their bodies to prove it!

Who trampled snakes and ladders under the boot, Heel, Knox –

too much white dwarf seldom makes a gent, but more orcs,

than you can fit angels on a needles eye, to make a tweet.

Silvester ate the birdie before you could put white sheets

on your green fields of golf – Alf wanton to crash in your works.

VIII

What is your altar, and the piss, to mar the fire;

the infant to not know it all, while Zarathustra

comes back to town? Many forest sages, retire

to the demagogues and cog the Magog hire –

to wheel the spire of Orthanc. Others Schuster

their mustard seeds to let the Almond trees muster

enough air to Nike to cloud nr. 9 and sell tires.

IX

No more Root for the evil tree, no more beer;

not even beef. All eat vegan, while loathing Megan Fox.

Diluted with #HolyWaterR not even pirated, still sneer –

going analog, to molest the ability to offer different steer.

How dare you, that farts more than green dealers could coax!

There's the Y – metaphors screech in anthem to mox

the U into Pu to UPU the new UWU on the Walnut streets.

X

Sniffing the Digitalis, I wish on the next mistletoe;

my heart failed to murmur in the silence of solace.

I had to venture deeper in the rabid hole of Erewhon;

staring my mirrored self, snakes in the grass goes

to the maple leafs, to make em the next shoe lace!

Who sees black-white-red, who draws spades Ace –

hotshotting the spot others missed to scratch a brow.

XI

“What does it meme, Steve, I'm on steam, why;

let me believe, but I found a lie in your I'm fine!”

So many want to carry over their res-pond-cybille with a Ty;

then surprised, then Charon didn't wanna comply!

Deaf are the ears to the lazy parker, who walks back in line!!

If you have started to step out, go all the way, not for signs!

No Star has been carved on the broadwalk by mature hire...

XII

Two get into backstage, the bad girls and the band;

the gazelles and those who can predator the savanna.

If you wanna be respectable, give it up, just stand –

bye, you had your chance, but hares don't drink grand!

They will never taste the bubbles upper-champagne;

to cream with the crops, the big cheese a campaign.

Yet you wish on your thinking, that you deserved a hand.

XIII

What have you done, to rip out your guts and gore;

to shore with your force Majeure, for Godspeed.

Maybe its still morrow, and listening to ho ho ho –

you can await some more, being busy Martha for

only the brave and the bold shall get the needs

met, while dodging angry shotgun shells, no reeds

can stand, while they cuck in the wind: “Yes milord!”