The Delusional Prophet Parade

Hey! Step right up!

Watch the delusional prophet strut his stuff!

Silly little man, got a plan so grand,

But all I see is sand slipping through his hand.

There’s a fool in the corner, preaching out loud,

Claiming he’s chosen, trying to draw a crowd.

"I’m the next great savior, hear my decree!"

But who the hell are you? You ain't foolin' me!

You throw around liars like you own the truth,

But look in the mirror, who’s the real sleuth?

Dancing on dreams, like that wizard in the mist,

But your yellow brick road is a road that’s been missed.

Oh, whoopee fucking do!

Think you’re the ruler, but you’re just passing through.

Don’t knock on my door with your bullshit parade,

Cause this I can say—your delusions are made!

You’re the prophet of nonsense, the king of the weird,

Claiming you’re chosen, but the vision is seared.

Hiding behind words like a coward with pride,

But nobody’s buying the lies that you hide.

Got a fistful of dreams and a mouth full of lies,

But my eyes see clearer than your grand alibis.

You’re just a little man, standing stout in the way,

Thinking you’re a god? Oh, what a cliché!

Oh, whoopee fucking do!

Think you’re the ruler, but you’re just passing through.

Don’t knock on my door with your bullshit parade,

Cause this I can say—your delusions are made!

Hey there prophet, with your clouds in your head,

Take a step back, look around, see the dread.

People are laughing, and they’re laughing at you,

Cause this little game, it ain’t nothing new.

So go on, little man, keep your fantasies sweet,

While the real world’s waiting, beneath your defeat.

Don't come to my door, don’t bother at all,

Cause the prophet’s just jesting, and you’re headed for a fall!

Silly little man, thinking you’re divine,

But the truth is a road that you’ll never find.

Get fucked, wannabe, your time’s running thin,

With this bard on the path, just know you won't win!