The Prophet Obblonge - Imaginary Untruth

So, looking in my hated refrigerator and picking through the edibles I realized that even though
I haven't purchased food for at least four months beyond a package of peanut M&M's, possibly because
It had my initials on it, there are more consumables assembled at my home than I can possibly ingest
Before some of them turn into science experiments. Looking at a bunch of blackening bananas I thought

Fuck you guys, as if they were people demonstrating outside an abortion clinic. I may actually have
Gestured in their direction with a lone middle finger to fruit. Sitting down with my microwave
Slices of ham and a three-day-old 7-Eleven fried corn tortilla filled with I have no idea what
I had a brilliant idea, as I often do. In this script for the future I place a personals ad

Online seeking a single female looking for a relationship that specifically has full-blown AIDS
We both win in this situation, this mystery dying woman and I, because she gets to have the comfort
Of at least a sexual relationship one more time before something like the flu or shingles or a
Goiter kills her ultimately, and I can contract a deadly virus with no cure for the purpose of

Incubating it and deliberately infecting each and every single person responsible for the quasi
Legal kidnapping and sale of my daughter, thus ensuring their slow and painful deaths. But then
Continuing to envision the logical outcome of this action, as I also discover that even though I am
More than halfway done eating the tortilla-wrapped whatever it is, that I still have no idea what it

Is filled with, the image plays out as if filmed on 35mm with expert cinematography
Two months into what should be our mutually fatal last loves, this fucking chick breaks into tears
And confesses that she does not in fact have AIDS or herpes or even goddamn eczema of the little toe
But she saw this heartfelt plea of a lonely suicidal man and just knew, because insert

Deity here, told her that this was a cry for help from some lost soul she must save. Fucking chicks
Man. And the fucking imaginary bitch has the nerve to ask why I'm angrily kicking her out
Throwing her imaginary shit out of my door into the yard
Because the very first thing you ever did was lie to me

Written by:
Michael Mackenzie

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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