Fuck your stories dad, they’re no different than mine…
His stories are legend. Tales of a time
when he ruled the streets. With an iron cock.
All girls swooned and begged he come back.
His tight shirt, tight jeans and defined behind,
let him play his game while prey felt sublime.
He was the epitome of classic rock.
Long hair great voice, and an addiction to crack.
like Johnny Cash my dad walked the line.
Stories change nothing, no influence at all.
To me they’re just nonsense, his way to cope.
Cause to him I am nothing but a fag.
Just like the ones he sees at the mall.
So he tells me cock-rock stories, all in a hope
That I’ll just give up and stop loving Craig…
- John Garretson
Last modified on January 9, 2007.
