dirge in the desert

one day the fugitive Osama
cried out for his mama
that infidel, by George
into his ass I’ll forge
the stars and the spangles
and dance as they jangle
he tugged his dirty beard
and as a dozen lice cleared
said, I pine to see Shakira
instead of Al-Jazeera
it’s not in my psyche
but I feel like I’m from Nike
y’see, I’ve been on the run
for over fifty a burning sun
I spray my piss on the sand
and can’t wash my hand
I crap a great golden dune
like king Midas the loon
and instead of toilet paper
I use prickly Cactus tapers
oh how it bloody hurts
my bum pimples spurt
and it does me vex
to see camels having sex
god, send me a fair maiden
for my willy’s long Been Laden

ram cobain