The Courts Of Babylon

The Courts of Babylon

The cream of the underworld brooms

On the summits

Beyond the horizons of hell

The pinnacle of damnation

There her children daughters have

Crack the pinnacle of rebellion

They’ve mastered also the art

Of dressing to undress

They’ve revolutionized the industry

Remodeled their fashion and design

To walk tall and elegant

Unclothed and without shame

Like some nude stature

They’ve reinvented the factory

To make bread without dough

Weave fabric without wool

Make pizza without heat

Fry chicken without oil

Make braai without coal

Going beastly and slavish

Making babies without sex

Yet make love using rubber

They’ve revised the dictionary

For Daddy they’ve big Mike

And ma’am is replaced by Bitch

They’ve BMW for Baby Making Weather

My Whore for Girlfriend

Home girl for Wife

Extramarital for Infidelity

Gay for sexual pervasion

And ex-lover for promiscuity

They’ve redefined music

For the night clubs are a nuisance

Where they lavish the night

Swearing cursing and uttering nonsense

Above the din and drum of guitar

Clap and jeer or cheer

Painfully amplified the inferno

That sizzling climatic extravagance of hell

They’ve called they music

And they’ve borrowed also of the devil

Christened it and brand it holy hip-hop

And their gibberish and hips don’t lie

They’ve refined the art

Of painting and artistry

For they be tired of drawing

On board and paper

They cartoon their hair

Chisel the teeth

Humorously trim the beard

Do husbandry to the brows

Bore the ear slavish kind of

Paint their blasphemous lips

And so double the curse

Tattoo wherever wicked mind dictates

Stick some iron on tongue

Wear some plastic and tight

Look so metallic and artificial

Like some cartoon network animation

Appearing pathetically so funny

Yet arrogant typical of lunatics

Showing the whiteness of teeth

At the load of false compliment

From friends just as blind and confused

Or at worst damned lost

By pat k lamba aka pakla