This is a song about "Poptarts"

'cause it was an admired service-man

So i refuse to follow in the same steps as my old man.

Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/

Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,

Dial up words but they're not in service

That's why i try to write the best ill verses with real purpose,