BANG BANG YOU'RE DEAD
Dedicated in Fear to the NRA
I was broke
and so was my car,
I put out the word
that I was a star.
With words that is
a poetry machine,
I'll write anything
forget the dream.
I got the call
from a magazine,
asked me to cover
a gun show scene.
In Salt Lake City
a weapons' fest,
three whole days
Baddest-of-the-Best.
Money wasn't much
they paid the gas,
a couple of burgers
fifty in cash.
I hit the road
with my Shooters' Bible,
my laptop slung
digging my survival.
With guns & words
had it all buffed,
baddest in the West
humpin' so tough.
I learned the talk
along with the walk,
a paranoid's stalk
cocked-'n'-rocked.
There's two kinds of Uzi's
a Galil .223,
A Bush Master Mama
will set you free.
The AK-47
hottest in the show,
fully automatic
fires in the snow.
800 rounds a minute
you gotta be fast,
line up the children
give them a blast.
Suck on the barrel
destroy their dreams,
find some poets
they're smithereens.
Hump to McDonalds
gather up the kids,
take no prisoners
kill a few Yids.
Guns-R-Us
it's the American Dream,
the NRA
rules supreme.
I hit the Scene
packing-to-blow,
The Mountain West's
fastest gun show.
Stopped at the door
by a .44 mag,
demanded my pass
would I kiss the flag.
You betchur boots
I replied,
pass me the banner
rap it in pride.
I paid my dues
got certified,
blessed in blood
and sanctified.
God Almighty
there's ten thousand guns,
like a holy war
only more fun.
Rednecks galore
no one's banned,
even the Dukes
from the Klu Klux Klan.
Along came the bikers
riding their hogs,
chicks on the rear
& their junk yard dogs.
Pit bulls with AIDS
dancing their cocks,
roosters in drag
packing gun jocks.
Next came the Libbers
armed with fear,
don't mess with us
check out the mirror.
We've been tattooed
with fists and ink,
get close to us
you'll eat our stink.
We're Lady McDeath
and Mama Queen Bash,
spin on this
stick it in your ass.
Along came the preachers
black suit and ties
weapons-at-arms
to collect their tithe.
The Avenging Angels
old time Mormons,
mess with us
we're Stormin' Norman.
It lasted three days
these super men,
even the chicks
from the hooters' den.
Last came the hunters
their eagle eyes,
bear claws and racks
fucking their prize.
"If it flies, it dies"
came their motto,
they won the west
there's no tomorrow.
The buffalo's gone
most of the game,
there ain't much left
so what's your name?
"Buy more weapons!"
came the roar,
the gun makers' yell
pumping their wars.
"Sell! Buy! Sale!
before their banned,
Obama's vendetta
against our Land.
Stand up and fight
it's American born,
start with the Redcoats
on to Desert Storm.
It's like cocaine
there's never enough,
gotta have more
to be that tough.
Shoot up with gun oil
and kiss the flag,
hump our pickups
stomp some fags!
Praise to the Uzi
the Galil .223,
A Bush Master Mama
I'll need all three.
A case of ammo
fifty grenades,
one never knows
the end of the parade.
Guns-R-Us
it's the American Dream,
The NRA
rules supreme.
There's two kinds of Uzi's
a Galil .223,
A Bush Master Mama
will make you free.
The AK-47
the hottest to go,
fully automatic
lit up the show.
Our sacred right
that's our stake,
the Second Amendment
God's rattle snake.
Guns-R-Us
and The American Way,
God Bless America
and The NRA.
Gino Sky - December, 2012
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