The Magistrate woke with a sudden volt. 6-12 jumper cables attached at necks bolt.

Powdered Wigs plowed into Satan's pie.

He ventured the streets, like a King he pretended to care.

His gavel soft from over stimulated fair.

Blood flowed like bricks in a box.

He decried to the poor, pox, you cannot pay the price.

You shall pay your weight, like meat on a stick, shriveled and decaying

like this old man's digested track, your life is mine, your bones I grind.

I have a friend, I think ?... He is a financier.

Your soul has no value, your thoughts are useless.

Suck up my puke, and lick through my shit.

I have a friend, I think?... He is a tax collector.

From your rotting carcass he will feed tonight.

From those you procreate, a farmers delight!

I have a friend, I think?...He is my representative.

With my vote he will win and give me nothing but a psychotic grin.

I have a friend, I think?... He is my doctor.

Today I have cancer, a fight I can not win!

I have a friend I think?... He is a musician,

who's music I shall never really hear.

I have a friend I think?... it is all the people I will never know,

for whom, my love will never shed a  tear.