12-10-2013, 12:51 PM
Rube Barbs
Rapture is a grace-filled-hand
Pie-in-the-face. Right? Man, fuck
This fucking place. We're meant to suck
On cream that causes us pain and
Then apologize? We're clowns, so we understand
A lot about hard luck prat falls yuck yuck
Ten bucks for us to fuck up
And shrug to the schmucks in the grand stand—
But that's how we get to Heaven? Who's in charge here?
God? This may look painted on, but tears,
My shoulders going up and down: I'm trying
To look like I'm laughing. I just can't believe . . .
I'm devastated. I'm the punchline to the one about human beings.
But the French horns swell, and the machine spotlights me.
Rapture is a grace-filled-hand
Pie-in-the-face. Right? Man, fuck
This fucking place. We're meant to suck
On cream that causes us pain and
Then apologize? We're clowns, so we understand
A lot about hard luck prat falls yuck yuck
Ten bucks for us to fuck up
And shrug to the schmucks in the grand stand—
But that's how we get to Heaven? Who's in charge here?
God? This may look painted on, but tears,
My shoulders going up and down: I'm trying
To look like I'm laughing. I just can't believe . . .
I'm devastated. I'm the punchline to the one about human beings.
But the French horns swell, and the machine spotlights me.