A chain of fresh air,
I smoke the breeze.

Converse prosaic platitudes, them typical attitudes
A state of verbal fashion.

Satire and bastardised cultural vomit
That affirms their social settings-
Half talk politics and the fodder of our own
Apathetic,
Self appointed,
rules and regulations,
Still the same old blithering idiots,
Reaffirming the prejudices
That pretence-
And them baffling philosophies
We pretend to understand
In to a stupor
Of visually inept romance.

Now so willing to pleas,
Those girls we clearly know are just a cock tees.
Now debate becomes argument
And every ones right
So leave with a bust lip at the end of the night.