A cacophony of cheers and guffaw
With the bare minimum of effort
The meek clashing pints with serial killers
Like rain drops falling and grass growing
Insane in the eyes of the sane
But they’re in triple digits, while I remain with the one
That makes me re-evaluate my odds
Who’s the truly mad one here?

I weigh up all the dialogue trees
It’s never just ‘Howdy, how’s it going?’
They take to your honey coated wingspan
And suddenly thugs and lords are banging at your door
It’s probably best to ferment in the void
Treat my free time like crown jewels
So they see my appearance like a Bigfoot sighting
Keep the invitations a V.I.P basis

Lnc0