Johnny's Birthday Song

I?m nobody so don?t cross me, cross-breed pavement special

Illegitimate son of fungus, the mutated lung

Scoping the headlines, glaring pictures, over-simplified text

Hitting their senses, entering human consciousness

Without a necessity for an intermediary process of reason

Lie food shot through the rectum, requiring no digestion

I?m stuffing a dead chicken into a glass bottle then filling the bottle with milk

I?m gonna seal that bottle tighter than a yoga-locked vagina

Johnny?s gonna pay you a little visit visit when nobody is home

In a few months your clever little presents gonna open itself all on its own

You?ll feel like ginny grindeth in a little cell defending his butt-hole all through the night

As scary spirits penetrate your sanity and begin to crawl through your mind

The post-cynical, clinical, miracle-monger unravelling lyrical thunder

Morphing endorphins gushing, rushing, crushing physical hunger

Don?t touch me, Johnny stokes ? a hundred and forty-four carved into my forehead

It?s my birthday on the 23rd of December two thousand and twelve