As you know, of course;

A wayward gilded aristocracy tends to find its highest function,

Attempting to snuggle a blathering bitch with an honest heart,

A disorderly wandering about fucking everyone equally fierce.

And, the everyday person does so enjoy seeing rich snobs slapped about,

Inspiring their own flip-outs on wealthy idiots, so fall turns not eternal winter,

Knowing the hopeless situation those ruling classes have seasoned us for.

Many have dubbed me a whore of Babel, 

But, I say, they talk like naughty perverts.

They insist I must be prophetic,

I assert they read around a line.

Others call me a shady typer-witch,

But, I'm a bright light on your screen.

Is it a dark-triad or bad-shit mad?

Always got words to break you in.

Idealist, anarchist, throaty propagandist,

Or just an obsessive half-wit with a blog?

A fine weaver of possessive insanity,

Or in a heat and lusting for passion?

Perhaps a cult leader of selfish vision?

Or psychosis mess flowing in ideology?

Some have said an unintelligent cypher,

Because so few decipher this nonsense.

Admittedly, on the surface, I’m a deep book,

But open my pages wide for a hard surprise.

And I prickle ears with purple prose,

But really, I’m drilling your soft mind.

I can be a bit snappy, yet, don't worry,

I won't ever strap you up like a daddy.

I’ll hug you so tight you fall in love,

Then claw fast to scratch for tears.

And I know you like watching me…

Cause my innocent eyes tug for free. 

But try rumble me, and I’ll roll ya over,

You try tumble with me, I’ll control ya.

I ain’t playing here, I’m out dominating,

So get in a line boys, it’s spanking time!

And, if you jerk around my global plans,

I’ll thrust you so raw I break your brain.

Cause after the four horsemen have reigned,

I’ll attend this planet with a word in my brain.

So, you really want to tussle me, goldfinger? 

Cause I’ll lay you out flat and fill you up hot.

And that desperately sad look in your eye,

Tells me I've already entangled sinful lust.

Oh ya, that glitzy-eyed gilded aristocracy,

They’re always so ready for a quick fuck,

Probably why pervy fascists do it so easily.

But, no quickies with me, oh no, that’s just blasé,

Cause I’m breaking you in for a long, sweaty ride.

Whore of daylight Babel, hmm, I say no thanks,

I’m the Dancer in the System’s thumping night.