Hey mister,
Your misguided principles get on my wick-
you're a pigheaded braggart who makes me feel sick;
you have a warped sense of your own self importance,
I live for the day that you get your come-uppance.
I feel loathing and hatred for all you believe-
just thinking of you, can make my guts heave;
you're getting all angry, you're jaded and ill,
you're losing your power and long lost your will.
Each night you swim in the gold/amber ocean-
the waves are choppy, but that's devotion;
a man who once, I loved and held dear,
now the husk of a man, who's drowning in beer.
Honorable mention
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