Princesssssssss Bride

Turn on the radio, and blood spews everywhere.

Wars are happening all around.

Invisible wars not seen by the naked eye.

Invisible wars of people attacking and attracting every which way and why.

Careful that the blood from the radio be not one’s own.

 

Take DNA tests of the fingernails of women everywhere.

Check whose blood they have there.

Check whose blood they have scratched.

Women will not be saved without a righteous man.

A woman will not be saved without a righteous.

Taken from the rib of a man.

Of a truth a man may be saved without woman,

But the reverse, as from Adam, is not true.

And many righteous men would prefer broken ribs

To having a woman at his side.

 

All a man who has never known war needs

Is but to meet a woman.

War there will be as she on he tries to make him to idolatry on her.

As ashtaroth.  As Ashtaroth of our day.

As Ashtaroth.

 

And the women in their skill of backbiting, of backstabbing,

As they sharpen their tongues while they sharpen their nails.

As they sharpen their tongues while they sharpen their nails.

And they sharpen sharpen sharpen their claws.

And the men that they rip

And the men who with them rip

Because the woman as Mamma bear to  her cubs,

And the woman has in design such a mean and menacing,

That man uses her for his design.

 

Crafty, wily women there are many.

And many the men who would prefer broken ribs

To having a woman at his side.

The wars that rage.  Relationships in a cage,

While the woman sharpens sharpens sharpens her claws.

While the woman sharpens sharpens sharpens her claws.

 

Calls the cops and shows off her tits,

Quickly convinces to every evil design,

To steal righteousness from the man himself,

And turn his good to evil design.

 

And the woman of her craft, her wily wiliness.

And for what may be her strength,

As great as be her talent to backstab,

As great as great may be,

Never will this salvation ever bring,

She must dominate, control her beast.

 

And for good reason a man is worth more than gold.

More than all money can buy

When the worth of salvation and death draws near,

And women need a way to get by.

They can’t scratch their to the pearly gate,

Not even with eternal-sharpened claws.

 

And a woman shall circle a man

Because salvation without righteous man she cannot cannot win

And a man is worth more than gold

A man is worth more than gold.

A man is worth more than gold.

That’s just a fact, but woman is not.

 

Her titties won’t buy her way to salvation, she put such a price on them.

But cops heed her plea, and jail men like me.

There is not right to dote on a woman,

And in those jail cells as we all get punched to hell,

We are reminded the worth of a wily woman

The worth of a wily, crafty woman.

As one said, “Never underestimate the power of the jubblies.”

And their worth, their worth is zero.

 

And here we go around and around,

An eternal war, as it were,

As women seek to deify themselves,

Priestcraft, witchcraft to steal men’s souls.

But there is no salvation for these.

The death to the soul of a man is no salvation guarantee.

 

I look at my scratch marks, and I confess,

No woman will ever dominate me.

For while she sharpened her nails,

While she sharpened her tongue while she sharpened her nails,

I by doctors by abuse by cops by religious and neighbors she brought,

I sharpened I sharpened also my tongue,

And truth triumphs at last.

Truth has its own foundation.

It needs not of mans (or woman’s) approbation.

Truth has its own foundation.  It needs not of her approbation.

 

Maneater though she be, destroyer though she can,

Yet yet yet there is a man who will not bend.

And though a woman goes preachy preachy preachy

To gain listeners and money by her art,

Yet I will not heed a woman preacher,

No power has she to save at all.

No power to save at all.

By man by man as given to Adam,

And man and man to rule,

Salvation through righteous of man who rule,

Salvation alone through him,

 

For good reason shall seven of one man take hold

Seven women grabbing to one,

As salvation escapes and terror looms,

There is no help for anyone.

Nay, neither salvation for anyone.

 

Not even for Princess Bride.

Not even not even for the Lamb’s Bride.

And the radio booms blood everywhere,

Of women scratching the life out of man.

As incompetent incompetent they say of man

Incompetent incompetent they claim of him

That they are far better than him

Incompetent! incompetent! incompetent!

But humility wins at last.

Victory “V” of the geese I see, sign of triumph for me.

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