Hot to chill
Calm to thrill,
Rage to despair
I don’t even care.
You can throw your mood up and down
You can rent a loft in town,
You won’t beguile
With either tears or smile.
You can use all your wit
You can throw a fit,
Reloading your charm
Like it’s a firearm.
You want between skin and rib
You cancer so glib,
You’re very scent presaging
The war that you’re waging.
I don’t care what you want
Nor how you may haunt,
I’ll leave no quarter
You miser you thwarter.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 