Rocks just sit around Like dead things that refused to dance To anybody's tune: Rocks. They're so hard and ugly, those rocks. They might Crunch your brain Or Crush your pelvis Or Mash-up your face 'Til you look like Elvis; Creeping your Jeepers: R O C K S ! Stop them (if you can); But when you Hammer them and Smash them and Pound on them -- as your biceps dissolve into gruel -- All you have is SMALLER rocks, Laughing their silent, little pebble laughs At your pathetic, watery flesh. Those nasty, ageless, sexless, Igneous and hairless Hunks of heinous hate: Rocks...maybe some deity will save us...Rocks. I said, "Rocks," DAMMIT......ROCKS! Start running...run away now from: R O C K S ! Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! R * O * C * K * S * ! * !