Nine of ten and I’ll say when.

There are lots of moves to learn,

Load of people that sit and yearn.

Sitting is the new smoking now,

and smoke is just a money thing how?


Slowmo is the new tainment,

while Scomo had more than just slayment.

Promoting oneself instead of a mate,

something outlawed in our place of debate.


Its a crazy zany speced-up world,

But people seem to do what they’re told.

But we’ve had enough of this lucid dream,

everything seems to be covered in cream.


Pink purple,

green or blue.

The hair color meanings.

I know a few.


Orange, Red,

yellow and white.

The most popular colors,

Causing my fright.


Why the product,

why the range.

Did you want that glossy,

or are you deranged.


Down in the south,

where everyones mouth,

Seemingly benign.

But seethings the hate – sparing no rhyme.


They dance, they move,

they get in a groove.

But under it all,

is a minisule fuse.


Its sick, its distorted,

I should well report it.

But with deaf ears around,

they’re heads undergrounded.


All the songs,


I cant even sing,

to celebrate thee.


So I whistle and hum,

hanging around like a bum.

Smiling and pucking,

Cause I’d rather be …

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