When last we left him...
our hero yes was recently diagnosed as being last haver
of a most unusual sort of blood.
quite surprised by the news himself,
(and still the genuinely unlucky man)
he now wields his one and only body bag
of this, his now very rare blood.
and so, we find him seated not starved but smalled,
before a really rather serious spread...
his evening's eats have been copped and bequeathed
by the richest of rich who's only child is especially sick...
their fair scared parent eyes reading weak...
yelling help across some 200 feet of set table
yours far full of edge... perfectly still like straight teeth
It seems so few would know just what to do as the new and improved lucky you,
to be courted and prized as someone else's very own personal blood mine.
I mean...What if your o-so unique blood... then became the latest craze...
would the dear disparate world not get the wrong/right idea,
You...now owning all your ever so happening blood...
You...sole proprietor of all that priceless red wet...
What if...
What if your blood were then all the rage...
What then...
What if your blood weren't you...
What would you give
in order to get your hands
on the latest most luxurious blood...
to have yours flushed completely
and replaced with that of a nice bright white
college boy or very viral multi-millionaire widow...
Would you later pay extra
for your old red tide to be glassed,
sat down, room warm beside your occupied hospital bed.
so that when you were well,
and in your right mind of redwets
and new whites. You just might
indeed, spill your own & old blood.
can't you hear your mercury just
ringing with the jingles already...
hey fool,
is there a terrible time to your life that never seems to let up...
is it a terrible time of the great nothing much...
what say you leave your past life's luck in the dust...
and let the miracle most of modern day at your blood...
(under the age of death)
(complementary bag of aspirin)
(imagine, Ice Cube's blood, running through your veins)
our hero yes was recently diagnosed as being last haver
of a most unusual sort of blood.
quite surprised by the news himself,
(and still the genuinely unlucky man)
he now wields his one and only body bag
of this, his now very rare blood.
and so, we find him seated not starved but smalled,
before a really rather serious spread...
his evening's eats have been copped and bequeathed
by the richest of rich who's only child is especially sick...
their fair scared parent eyes reading weak...
yelling help across some 200 feet of set table
yours far full of edge... perfectly still like straight teeth
It seems so few would know just what to do as the new and improved lucky you,
to be courted and prized as someone else's very own personal blood mine.
I mean...What if your o-so unique blood... then became the latest craze...
would the dear disparate world not get the wrong/right idea,
You...now owning all your ever so happening blood...
You...sole proprietor of all that priceless red wet...
What if...
What if your blood were then all the rage...
What then...
What if your blood weren't you...
What would you give
in order to get your hands
on the latest most luxurious blood...
to have yours flushed completely
and replaced with that of a nice bright white
college boy or very viral multi-millionaire widow...
Would you later pay extra
for your old red tide to be glassed,
sat down, room warm beside your occupied hospital bed.
so that when you were well,
and in your right mind of redwets
and new whites. You just might
indeed, spill your own & old blood.
can't you hear your mercury just
ringing with the jingles already...
hey fool,
is there a terrible time to your life that never seems to let up...
is it a terrible time of the great nothing much...
what say you leave your past life's luck in the dust...
and let the miracle most of modern day at your blood...
(under the age of death)
(complementary bag of aspirin)
(imagine, Ice Cube's blood, running through your veins)