Guard Your Gates

You were savaged and shook by the cretinous crooks in your crib

On the 5th of July, all that grease from the night on your lids

From the crypt of your room, drilled a hole in the moon, where you hid

'Til your power supply shorted dusty & dry. That was it

Sometimes I'd like to be the fierce competition

Although I'm better off marooned in the priest caste

No death by decimal score, no dean of admissions

Just supporting actors, understudying the leading man

It's a cold light

In your spent heat

Go guard your gates, Powder Keg

Let the lightning in your lineage lay

Down for days, Powder Keg

Leave the lightening to the rest of us

Your borderline protectorate

Of "fingers crossed" & pixie dust

You never know until it's too late