Dope Destroys That Which Hope Protects

DOPE DESTROYS THAT WHICH HOPE PROTECTS Those aren’t really maggots, it ain’t even a flightless fly That’s just the look of putrid and putrefied flesh when you die Those aren’t really moles down there, they ain’t even mice But I’ll tell you, the stench of death comes at quite a price Every May fourteenth it’s Robbie’ day December third is reserved for Bobby’s day Lucy died at exactly midnight on the fifth or six of May So was she buried that day or the next, ever heaven to stay Maggots may squirm and squirm like a worm But a dead body can only be steady and firm That’s a directive from the one with intoxicating perfume But we all know she’s all about death, destruction and doom Mother earth awaits her kin in kind Be they ordinary, or f*****g out of their mind Fridays are for lovely Sherry and how she always rendered mirth And as of today more than half of my friends occupy the earth © 2011.….free cee!