Just an over-educated bluegrass punk
Getting high on urbanised skunk
Gaultier suits by the score
Optimises this decadent whore.
Philosophising about modern art
Dadaism, creationism, where did it start
You are the police of the police.
Romanticising about Shelley, Byron, Keats.
Indifferent to world affairs
Indifferent to other people's cares
Just a contemporary Don Juan
With fake appeal and faker tan.
You imagine their sympathetic view
Coinciding with your imaginary you
Exalted ego in expensive channel
A fancy dress for a personality hell.
30,000 on your Facebook friends
Gives a popularity pretense
Look in the mirror and what do you see
A social media obsessed catastrophe.
In the primitive time,
Adam as I am known,
A rock in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
beating the rocks,
there was fire,
burnt my hair.
In the medieval time,
Arthur as I am known,
A sword in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
sitting in a pose,
cut down a sculpture,
made some art.
In the urbanised world,
Hitler as I am known,
A gun in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
crazy were my thoughts,
blew my brains out,
after I burnt the world out.
In the futuristic world,
I don't what I am called,
A light saber in my hand.
what do I hunt?
what do I hunt?
electrocuted a mouse,
In the future what I do,
how the hell will I know?
How ever far a man has come,
his time, his name would not matter.
for what he would create,
hunger is his main drive.
consequences of his actions are not his.
victims of his little creations,
are the ones who surround him.
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