2 nillion copies sold, what glory!
Sales came down through the roof
Though there’s two sides, to every story
Then there’s the awful truth
Nicely observed by a handful, bold
I simply begat, a document in word
Story changed, not when it was told
But every single time, it was heard
Then who’s to know, where it will go
Speculate theories, to prove me wrong
Mistranslating faux poetry, and prose
To sing their own grim hymn in song
If you’re anything, like me
You’ll want it to end, quickly
Then put in your heart, and act the part
Or it will die, like most of man’s art
Go, sing, and play it on the airwaves
On the radio band, to everywhere
Attach your name, to take the blame
If you flipping dare
This’ll never get on the radio
Due to the bad language gap
Just replace every ‘f’ with a whistle
A clap for a ‘sh’, and it’s a wrap
If you hear no swear words here
Someone, must have fucked about
Compromised my lame testimony
To help get the message out
Attaching your name to 100 rhymes
At the risk of it being remembered
The worst thing you could wish for, unless
You ‘want’ to be eternally, swollen membered
And if you show potential good stock
When you’re gone, evaporated or lost
They’ll come looking for those, who share your genes
Cos, being remembered, can come at a cost