F*CK a politician.
And f*CK the psychological state of neglect from which they come.
F*CK the top 40.
F*CK the formulaic method from which you package and choose.
F*CK the crowd that eats this crap up.
Bunch of cockroaches holding hands. That’s what this country is.
F*CK your truck.
F*CK your interests,
F*CK your opinions.
F*CK the newsman.
It’s possible, and this is a far out theory, it’s possible that we’re all tired of you π
F*CK your bruised ego and f*CK your sense of purpose.
… alright, it passed.
I hate you,suck my dick.
But I kinda love you.
So forgive me π