three songs

[The Middle Way]

     
Comparative Relidjum

Yer Jew baby's stuck in a Cath'lic's Limbo
The Rapture spells doom "for all the rest o' y'all"
But I'm screwin' six dozen virgins up in Allah's Joint
And I say it's alla you, thet's bound for a fall

The Goddess of Compassion used to be a man!
Then some Japs got holda him, cut off both dude's balls
As they say round these parts, "Ain't that about a Bitch!"
And up in Baghdad, they's throwing up new walls

Once't upon a time, Otto-Man invaded Ay-Rabb-i-ya
Before that, Akbar 'n Jeff bested the Hind
Somehow, by Dharma, Sum One sticks around awhile
To raise your consciousness 'til ways begin to mend

{b-deh-bdeh bdeh b'd'thats all, folks}





Didack Ticking

This Universe (or Omni/Multi-Verse)
The One we all know and love
Is polymorphously perverse
*As Below, So Above*

Like your giggly little Girl-child
Your dear old pipe-toking granny
Like your fav'rite creepy uncle
Or unfo'tunate O'phan Annie

She got her random, wilding mood swings
(and a sick-assed sense of humor)
We're her doll-babies made for dress-up
(and Bro's war games, just a rumor)

You can question these assertions
You might even cite some 'facts'
You may not even wanna hear this
'Cause it's grody-to-the-max

But take a good, hard look around you
Mind's Eye open, not wide shut
See the Pageant's headlong procession
Climb up out your special rut

While merry-go-rounds just keep 'a turning
No circle needs be still unbroke
*Submittted for your consideration*
The Most Wrong Prophet have just spoke




untitled

Self-immolating Mohammedan Jihadist
Allah-assured of virgins, in castles-in-the-air
A Heaven & a Hell, of clearly demarcated borders
Such is the global solution to his local despair

Self-revealing Abrahamic Propagandist
Closely monitors media and sponsors billboards-in-the-sky
Extols Promised Lands amidst a New World Order
True believers demand expanded pieces of a pie

Self-Supremal, Court-appointed Shrub Decidist
Benefactee of supra-powers by special self-decree
Secures your Homelands and restores all your gained windfalls
Counts by nines 'n elevens so the deci-mated learn to see

Doubting Thomasina, Sacra-Mental Non-Sophist
Wonders what-in-hell can this business all mean
Is this message of doom embedded in all ancient Textings?
Or is it down to interpretation to which misery doth lean

©2007 by Tigress and The U-Fraidees
on Cradle O Civilization Wreckerds

USED BY PERMISSION