The Mounds of Butthurt
Sung to the tune of The Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel
Hello Spectral, my old friend
Seems you have lost your mind again
Alzheimer is softly creeping
Left its seeds while you were sleeping
And the semen that was planted in your ass
Turned to gas
Within your mounds of butt hurt
In foolish thoughts you think alone
Narrow cock can't turn to stone
'Neath the weight of the fattest tramp
Returned your foreskin to the old folk's camp
When your ass was stabbed by the flesh of a teenage cock
It stopped your clock
And caused your mounds of butt hurt
And in the naked light you saw
Ten thousand johnsons, maybe more
Faggarts sucking without speaking
Asshole rearing without clamoring
Willy writing wrongs that people never see
And no one cared
About his mounds of butt hurt
"Fools", said you, "You do not know
Butt hurt like a cancer grows
Hear my rants that I might teach you
Take my word that I might reach you"
But your turds, like rotten cum drops smell
With odor
In your mounds of butt hurt
And the people howled and brayed
At the stupid claims you made
And they shouted out their warning
At your butt hurt that was forming
And they all said, "The name Death for Prophet is written on the bathroom walls”
“And upon your old balls"
And shadowed by your mounds of butt hurt
