‘Twas Christmas in the past, when all through the world
Not a devil was stirring, they were all neat and tidy, hair neatly curled;
They wake up in the morn, to bed early at night
In hopes to be the people of the light
The children of the devils are fucked up in the head
But in reality they are the ones who seem calm and “Offley” (a genius)
Their hair is always neat, the latest in trend
Their clothing top end
When out in society they are the head “Honchos”
They use their minds to berate and taunt you
But they smile and look sweet and pretty, and visions of their blue eyes will haunt you
Because they killed the “Feeanshaontee” (Goddess Venus), and took her beauty
The fake moon goddesses at the crystal store
Buying houseplants and magical items galore,
To fool you into believing they are the gentle ones,
Who are the real Goddesses, when really they are whores,
With a college degree, and as the “hatapleeh” (at the top of their game),
They gather in covens to succumb Anya’s flames.
More rapid than eagles they play the scoonchy game,
Then they whistled, and shouted, and yelled at the dame;
“Now, Erika! now, Anya! now, Vala and Ashontaplee!
On, David! on John! on, Mark and Val we do the “scoonchy atee”!
To the top of the sky! to the top of the sky!
We cash away! cash away! cash away at the mall”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
With their minds ready to pounce, they scoop up the guys,
They might be the funny one, talented one, the “Valee” (Goddess on High)
They pretend to be innocent, the Virgin Mary
And then, in a twinkling, they entrance with their eyes
And tell you they are the ancient “Hompleonshah” (ancient Goddess).
As I the Goddess spend my days saving, and inspiring, and healing
Down the evil ones took me with a bound
They are dressed all in designer, from head to foot,
With mansions, and diamonds and Manolo Blahnik
Spoiled princesses so merry and bright
Settle down with my family every night
Their eyes how they twinkle! their dimples how merrry!
Their cheeks are like roses, small, thin and very,
Capable of doing what the real Goddess cannot do,
Mind control on the “Ponshoo” (Gods who are the human men tonight)
They get together at least one day a week,
To drink tea, eat cake and plan the “hompshee” (attack)
Nobody every notices a thing,
Because they pretend they can paint, draw and sing
The dark ones appear with black hair as witches from hell,
They might be geeks who have elf ears and haunted bookshelves,
Pretending to be the ancient “Beench” (hero who kills the demons),
As long as they are brooding, and can wear a tight skirt,
Spout others poetry, and write and seem smart
As long as they can look you in the eyes,
And have gaps between their thighs;
Or they can have a broad face and a little round belly,
So they can be the God who laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
They wear a power suit, they seem astute,
they get high-end jobs, they are the head “honch”;
They are seductive and good at getting you in bed,
Its all a trick in the head, then they can win “the men”;
She speaks not a word, not in reality or your mind,
She simply does not have the energy or time,
The real Goddess is not neat or tidy, she is “aveknor” (a person who is so upset and angry she shakes the earth with such force she creates tidal waves).
The real God is in your world, you do not see me, I do not act up,
I am quiet and humble and slowly speak, people fall asleep around me,
I am not hyper, but calm in realty, but my energy is “fooonchonsah” (upset at the highest level) as can be,
My hair needs a cutting, my nails I bite off, dark circles encompass the space around my eyes, my uterus is gone.
The gap in my thighs is filled in with solidified oil,
My skin is demonized.
I cannot power walk on a treadmill, I died and I cannot walk at all,
As Jesus Christ, I cannot spend Christmas at a mall!