A Judas Iscariot, A proletariat,
A Bible-aged ape named Darius,
A tribal rival awaits,
He’s the scariest,
Nefarious,
For skinning the hairy slit,
Of the very bitch he fucked and got married with,
But Ein got high on knowledge and married wit,
Shouldered the burden of knowledge and carried it,
Then buried it, with a cherry pit and a fairly thick,
Barely nicked bat and Harry’s mitt,
And the ball they said was barely pitched,
Was covered in blood, shit and Mary’s piss,
This artifice is hard to miss,
This armless kid’s departed Sis,
He’s starving, pissed,
But hardly mad,
A bad rap for a good lad,
Shoud’ve had a good dad,
He laughs alone, an ode,
To an absent man.
