Through the door it slithers in,
|
Accompanied by its peers.
|
Always groveling for attention,
|
While no one really hears.
|
In its mind it's full of wit
|
And quite the social king.
|
It plants itself among the rest,
|
to give its deadly sting.
|
|
It's just a matter of opinion.
|
|
Further now there's a man of taste.
|
Of talent and precision.
|
To work and strive at his artform.
|
Has been his life's decision.
|
The stage is set. The perfect show
|
Is put before the mass.
|
Only to be ridiculed
|
by some slimy, pompous ass.
|
|
It's just a matter of opinion.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Hecker
|
| Primus |
