The Most Creative Man in the World
Did not sell a single thing
Undiscovered like Hidden spring
What is it then, that made him Great?
From common themes he’d emancipate,
Say “go to hell” to what they thought
And work while blazing killer pot,
While other fucks tried to make money,
Or failed at being really funny
He had a vision strait from God
His concepts seeds in one great pod
Which fell to Earth
In times of Dearth
And sprouted far from
Mainstream mirth.
Since he’s been found
His thoughts confound
Yet are as
Deep as earthen mounds
While other stuff has been forgotten
Even by common minds all rotten.
