By Mega Machamp
Sometimes I look back,
To when I was younger,
Times were much simpler then,
I would wake up at dawn,
and be watering the lawn,
or maybe going fishing again.
And my mom would be mixin'
up something in the kitchen
,
fresh buiscuits or hot apple pie
And I would spend all day long,
in the basement,
Torturing old barbie's with a hacksaw,
and pulling the wings off of flies.
And I still remember,
good old Mr. Fender,
who ran the coner grocery store,
and I still remember,
the day I bashed in his head,
you should've seen the look on his face.
And I'll never forget,
sweet Michelle,
she was my high school romance,
she was nice to be around,
and great to smell,
so I took her to the homecoming dance,
Then I tied her to a chair,
and I shaved off all her hair,
and I put her in a desert all alone,
and sometimes in my dreams,
I can still hear the screams,
And I wonder if she ever made it home.
Go Home, Now!
