Hits in the most mundane places
like at Wally World where the grocery list
has to be taken back home and burned
lest it get into the hands of a witch who
could then cast a powerful spell because the
DNA was in the ink.
Pagan shit, voodoo voices walking up and down
the grocery aisles, man...
Tim Tebow circumcising starving Ethiopian babies
at Eoster. (take that handoff)
Just because they're talking about you behind your back
doesn't mean you're paranoid.
Aliens in the cowpasture beaming you up,
working on your ass and inserting tracking devices
under the skin so that they can know what you're talking about.
David Bowie communicating to you backwards on Iggy Stardust
and the Spiders From Mars,
thinking that the witches
were after his semen.
You know, to make a baby for a Beelzebub sacrifice
or at least produce George Bush Jr.
The worst place, though, is in the
lingerie section of Blue Light Big K
cause the fat ladies ain't what
you're looking for.
They're all looking and talking about you.
They all want your semen, too,
but to produce god's lille chillen.
Better to keep your paranoia in a cookie jar.