Crazy young one 

 your time is soon to come. 

Keep shoving those rails up your pretty perfect snout. 

You think your a king, 

from the head you boast about. 

Your smile woo’s the weak,

followers who prey. 

Leaders shy away from you, 

your a black sheep, eating dry hay. 

Women worship you for your charm, 

men beg you for your promise, 

You smell of sadness and ...

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