Written down in quick succession
Like automobiles in a dirge procession
Just some brain droppings, nothing more
A hero's heart blown apart, tears galore
The media has praised him, a fallen hero
A giant irony with a truth score of zero
Ranted, raved, stabbed the establishment hard
The curmudgeon classer surely carried a card
That said, the middle finger is always raised
Long before Eminem was nearly bullet grazed
Believing immortality came from the bluest food
And tearing down anything else, whatever the mood
Slashing the language with a surgical knife
Even though he was drug-addled most of his life
Committing the crime of raping feminism
And cornholing Catholicism after the schism
Worming into the minds of susceptible youth
And giving them perceptions so rotten and uncouth
Questioning our foundations with such a wry face
Why do the hypocrites see him as fallen from grace?
He never cared, and now he's one with the dirt
Although, Jesus may have him by the collar of the shirt
A minor probability when rationally examined
But the majority of observers believe it happened
That was never the point of his life however
The point was to make them laugh by being clever
And he succeeded wildly, being the number one
To many fans, his voice more powerful than any gun
These words will never be picked up by anyone big
Just by those that give a s**t, as smart as some pig
Stopping here and putting down the pencil
The mold is now broken, there is no stencil