Skyfall

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It’s not a crime to be pretty
Wearing rented dresses, searching for a breadwinner
Socialites & other plastic people
No redeeming qualities, but she wants to be thinner
Her vagina will accept almost anything
Whether it be dollars, pounds, marks or kroner
A consummate professional at all times
She expects to be well paid for every geriatric boner
You don’t look gift whores in the mouth
Searching for a sugar daddy, anyone will do
Sitting in the bullpen, hoping to get promoted
Waiting to pluck her next victim, how many already gone through
That swath leaving nothing to the imagination
Offended when the whispers mention a gold digger
Everyone can spy those silicone scars
Next time she’ll go a couple of cups bigger
Sucking more than the marrow out of life
She’s trading her youth for money & security
But once tarnished, Innocence forever besmirched
Time is constantly magnifying all your impurities
There are certain priorities in this life
A father must keep his daughters off the pole
But something much less discussed nowadays
What do you do once she grew without a soul
This scene is littered with heinous & fickle creatures
Cloaked, it slowly begins to scandalize & appall
Men with large billfolds & absolutely no shame
The current failure of society & they call it Skyfall

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Max Headroom Is Stuck In A Box

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Max Headroom is stuck in a box
Reclusive creature of yesteryear
Been trapped there under lock
Trembling hands with rippled fear
Our former lives now tarnished
With time dropping of another grain
Too much polish, too much varnish
Our earnest vanity will be our pain
But to peel away those outer layers
Uncover something forgotten & small
Hidden deep, lest our betrayers
Might catch us before the squall