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Bitter Twisted and F@cked.
BITTER.
My parents got divorced,
way back when I was three.
Now i"m twenty-seven,
I wish that they could see.
See what they have done,
a junkie everyday.
Alone and in despair.
I"m gonna make them pay.
I was put in social care,
they said they couldn"t cope.
That one would come for me,
not to give up hope.
But the visits they just ended,
exactly as I feared.
Birthday followed Christmass
and the cards just diappeared.
I was in and out of trouble,
my pallor always pale.
I did some petty crime,
it lead me straight to jail.
My apprenticeship began,
boy I learned the lot.
How to steal most anything
and hopefully not get caught.
But back to my revenge.
My life it needs a purpose.
Got to get my head straight,
it is time for me to surface!
TWISTED.
I found out where they lived,
they both lived far apart,
but I need some money
before my deed will start.
I rob a local store
it was easy and quite fun.
A couple of hundred dollars,
enough to get a gun.
The gun is soon acquired,
now soon i"m on my way.
Mother will do first
let"s hear her finale say.
Three days later I arrive.
I stand outside her house.
The bitch she has remarried,
I"m as quiet as a mouse.
The window opens easily
i"m soon beside her bed.
The pillow stops her snoring
as I shoot her through the head.
I shoot her partner to.
A fat slob in a vest.
Now to reach my Father,
onward with my quest.
He lives out at the coast.
In a shack quite near the beach.
I could smell his rotton soul,
he was nearly in my reach.
FUCKED.
The place it is run down,
inside a shining light.
But patience is a virtue
I am gonna sit just tight.
The light goes off at last.
Revenge is heard to shout.
"A dish that"s best served cold,
of that there is no doubt."
I enter his front room.
The light is like a shock!
A gun is trained on me
" I think we have to talk."
My father looks like me,
spitting image I confess,
only so much older,
fucked up and just a mess.
Our sight is eye to eye
my throat has gone so dry.
His fingers on the trigger
I know i"m gonna die!
"Oh I aint hear to talk."
I say in trebly voice.
" Well aint that just a shame,
so glad you gave a choice."
His voice was calm, direct.
But his gun was loud and bucked!
It spelt my Epitaph.
Bitter Twisted
and FUCKED!
