Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Disguise into Rushdie Pumpkin

I want a nice big juicy fatwa
A squeezed gleason to whatsa matta?
You wasn’t allowed to fatwa squat on my pompadour
Growing up my parents would master splinter my ninja me.
Now I know it’s a farsa fatwa.
It wasn’t me

Like a ceremony, but with strangers doing it for free
Buying fake armlength jewelry like Bruce Lee
Who hates on hot bods but a fatwa.
A roundhouse kick works like piazza plotz
Bodies aren’t cool. We kill to be unseen with them.
Our liking deeds too much could mean fatwa.

I want a nice sweaty caddy slumming fatwa
A twin city sprinkle candy apple matzo
Something only provided by voluptuous mountains
Lactating on your latte Volvo driving vacation, chatty Creature!
Move to the country, sissy and wrap your mouth around this fatwa,
And you’ll never bratwurst this love hearse badly the worst again.

There’s a bump on my dick wrapped in a fatwa
A fatwa results in splatter: infectious?
Once one person’s team now the whole town juicy with fatwa
Blanketing the broken hills not drugs it’s Romper Fatwa
Places aren’t that enormous, but want chief big spew fatwa dick to bathe them.

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