Sad your day.

Demon and angel adore gunplay,

I overflow drugs, stinks to ashtray,

here isn't the party, just the disarray,

I will allay my pain, and spirited away.

There is hearsay that serves not pray,

anyway, today I will go out and slay

to your gods, with their own rays,

to corral them in an alleyway.

I wish to be a stray fox in Norway

and not witness this moral decay,

under the sway to the dismay

without it still being saturday.