SIX FEET UNDER
The rehearsal space at the Adrenalin Square in Southern Hormoneme was adorned with nothing but the awards this young man has won; while wondering why he could have gotten such a large audience to see his performance, I was caught up by Sushino, the fairy, who took me into the performance hall. The foundations of the wall of the hall were garnished with amethyst and Topaz. What a place to be! Before I knew what was happening, it was Elvis Presley that was standing before me, unbelievable! After performing his 1968’s “Live a Little, Love a little”, the crowd was thrilled. I had to rush to the backstage, slipped a note to Sam Philips, his producer, who gave me a pass.
Zincfinger: How has it been like getting yourself restricted to some new faces?
Elvis: Actually, it’s been fate and I’m getting on well
Zincfinger: Knew you must have gotten to see your identical twin brother, what was the feeling like?
Elvis: It seems the world is coming back to me again.
Zincfinger: Is there any recent song you wish you had written?
Elvis: It could have been Mase’s Welcome Back
Zincfinger: Which day would you have said was the memorable during your life, six feet up?
Elvis: The Elvis Presley day, August 13, 1956 that was declared in my hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi on the occasion of my first return performance since winning second prize for singing “Old Shep” at the Mississippi-Alabama fair.
Zincfinger: Can you please tell us those you’ve missed up there
Elvis: Carl Perkins, Johnny cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Roy Orbison
Zincfinger: who pisses you around here?
Elvis: Bob Dylan, The Beatles and Tupac Shakur
Zincfinger: Whose show would you have loved to attend if you a given a chance to be in the world up there?
Elvis: Jimmy Buffet and Ashley Simpson
Zincfinger: You were in the movie industry for a while, which of the movies would you have loved to be featured in?
Elvis: Being on the Soul Plane, of course
Zincfinger: Theories and rumours concerning your exile still continue as a stable of the tabloid journalism; could you please clear the air about this issue?
Elvis: I felt going on exile, because the crowns we wear six feet up, must also be won around here, which is quite important…maybe sometimes I would come around.
Mrs Dominguez Carlo, dressed in a Calico, met her in Bilbao; she was drowning in her sorrow, because she got her heart blown by a desperado, a gigolo that couldn’t bring her to Eldora do. Invitro could only be her ipso facto! Can we say she’s callow, No! She’s just making her debut. There could be a review, but don’t think there will ensue a clue; this is no voodoo, she’s getting blue, may result into a flu, I’ll advice you get it on the nine o clock news, you need a guru to solve your puzzle, I’m sure twenty million bachelors will be on the queue, really? Atimes you feel like getting crucified because your money can’t get you satisfied. This is no more classified; its intensified and magnified that you might turn to the most glorified who can get this situation nullified.
Get back to your first heartthrob, he sobs around town, he says relationship sucks! Remember when I use to hang around the streets daily, I met this foxy named Angela bailey, her attitude almost got my life shady. She’s lazy and hangs around alleys frenzy. Read in the Rollingstone she hangs around with so many. Dirty, her life was so dreary, this piece is getting heavy. Every 60seconds she wants to go merry, that even the powers of Jumanji can’t make her holy; she smells of corvosieurs like a ’03 biz buggy, naughty! She’s exactly the same girl on Obie. Sorry shorty, I’ll appreciate my own Goldie than your disenfranchised “pony”.
Your progesterone is putting you down so nasty, you walk around like the Diablo Pirelli, silly! What differentiates you from a pygmy, you journey from the streets of Miami to the whole cemetery, and Machiavelli must have laid you so easily! Lewinsky, please save the soul of this girly, forgotten, you could be related to this issue. Like, my world could become chilly, but I pledge, I’ll resist lyrically, unleash all chicks that go phoney. Please change your ways and be diligent and righteous, I still reign in my territory like the Sultan of Brunei
Razzmatazz of the twin towers brought us into searching for the Alqueda’s, invaders who jagged their ass into carcass, Baghdad and Basra besieged by war martyrs, warfare that brought scars into the life of some Chinese and Honk Kong pals.
Second verse invaded by the so called SARS virus that has turned houses into bars like you have been under arrest by the “SARS”. Maybe these world powers will still move to the Mars, please stop the class, the mars is not made for their ass, let every country burn and destroy their weapons of mass destructions and distractions.
For those who wont let us be, I’m the MVP, chilling on a 512MB, unleashing all the bees that sting the deeds of these countries, lets build bridges that link two cities and not tomahawks that hit citizens, diseases with no vaccines. Victims of these circumstances, your voices are heard in this world of ours, everyone knows his hours in numbers; forgive us and never hesitate to pray for us, we are changing this course to bring an end to the curse on these four walls.
BALLADS OF THE DEPRESSED
Fishing in troubled waters, like they want to break into carcass, you work like jackass, breaking borders like its smugglers, living your life like a hustler. Dude, live your life like it has no shallows, stop chasing after shadows, the world is full of callow, schmucks that live their life with flukes of swizz, streets engaged in ballads. Youngsters hold the world as but the world, don’t let these words get you dud, get your heads lurked on to the great deeds of the aged that was showered with applaud, that did justice to the fantasy of the horrid.
Cocooned in this violent act, you are chuffed like it’s not going to end; sometimes you hurl at the hungry soul “everything is sweet”. Why don’t you grit your teeth and get lit to make it, many beautiful houses out there are not homes, they could be filled with palpitations of fiddlesticks, bricks that cant be sustained by their foundations. Don’t take this as a jive; it’s just a vibe for you to jive with like it is from the heavenly seats.
People that do live for greatness could get downtrodden by their loneliness. Foxy Chickens lead their soul to blind alleys of unseemliness. Engaged in this phantom with great finesse and gradually encroaching into the world of the finest madness. This is for the second state of mind, Cloud cuckoo land hooking you up with looks you cant find, you try and make them grind and they exclaim you are too kind, take a look at their time of resurgence to life, is it not heading you to a forever strife? Call your soul back to order and revive.
Although they may be the salt of this so called world, don’t easily take heed to the power of their word, it might get you dud or lured, don’t fall to their tricks, they can get you proud, laud you and pollute the cloud around you, they make it loud like it’s the United States-Iraqi war sound. This madness can get you brown, bring you down and make you frown and sometimes, may turn you into a clown.