"yeah you're killing it"

not good, not good

feed me more
a violent sprout
that kind of wine
that gets me feeling
like i'm killin it

and i'm grillin it
(undercooked but overkilled)
mead
on these pills
the table's booked
and we dine in hell with our feet above

doves, on the stakes
saints, on the gates
spectate, the gallery
"yeah you're killing it"
i flap with the allegory
the prisoner's ~in-sane
because the parody is all there is to gain...