MR MOUSTACHE
Oh Mr Moustache
king of the filthy lyrics.
wah-wah guitar
and free speech
throwing sonic
bombs of complexity
at stupidity
there with that f-you
stare in a dress on
that infamous record cover
strictly commercial only
in it for the money
tuning
the beauty
of our discord
I wonder why your satire
never quite flattened
your targets like,
to be frank, those
zag-zig
moments in
your outrageous punch
Oh Mr Moustache
if you stab us
do we not jump?