Hellhounds Doggie Chow Part 1

If you drink that SPECIAL brand of Kool-aid,And now you flounder belly up make sure someone else is there with you,(and not just for good luck,)who has the required skills to render first aid. Cause lightning may strike on THAT whole parade. He’ll bend you down on your knees. Waiting and watching as YOU bleed not much further till you’re swallowin his disease. Before, and not one second more the hounds from hell have come to ring-in your death knell and, are now,barking up YOUR tree. It may be safe to say you’ve got some bills to pay. As Pride chides on Greed,he lies in wait, this ignominious, disaffected reprobate, plants his first seeds of doubt. He’s holding all the cards.Double dealins’ gained him nothing.And yet he’s come a stealin.Long in years, short on morality in an emotional stalemate, his words and actions compound exponentially. As the clock ticks down to check out time, he puts you on pause just so he can REWIND. He holds in his hands a memo of spiteful prose.As he reads it,the crowd arose.Mixed in well the FAIRYTALE he CHOSE to spread. When he asks for your malcontent dissidents to gather and feast upon his word salad, they’ve marked your parking tickets INVALID.Shaken not stirred a concoction of words. Be sure to agitate. Sailing towards home plate, you swing wildly at the ball.He watches as you get ready for a fall. This ignoble mischief maker, would rather burn it all down to the ground, than see HIS world turned upside down. As his greedy eyes feasted upon his treachery, he witnessed the crowd as it was whipped into a frenzy. READY AIM SHOOT He could have taken another route.And if you allow THAT bell to be rung, soon you’ll be clamoring for the beat of the drums.Marching swiftly down the street caught up in the swell. It’s already too late, that thick black signature spells the dying of a Democracy based on a lunatic fringe conspiracy. We all know he is NOT the one to jump on, the as yet, unexploded bombshell. He’d rather throw more gasoline on the fire, while gesturing with his hands and stoking the crowds ire. He is the one who would see all your good works undone. He has no intention of trying to dispel the fear and anger on which he dwells. He’s a disgruntled troublemaker driving you down, into rack and ruin. Just in case you hesitate, he’s got another iron in the fire, as you hang precariously by that wire. He’s burning THOSE candles from both ends. While you’re around he pretends to be there with you until