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Bull Of The Jungle Born in the fields of left over war zone Raised in the brush a baby boomer I am Grassed on hay tainted of the smog’s hays Moved on from trailer to trailer the courts Of which I played When I was young I couldn’t have enough fun As I grew older I just got a little bolder Could not find anything to tie me down Covered every inch of this town Sprouting the horns of head strong On every street light as a fence post I Sharpened my stately stride Huffing and puffing in a grunting hoof scratch Adapting to the cities craving to carve A cannon in life’s farming field Stumbling steers in the dirty cracks the whores Chewing cud loved my wild bulge Groaning to grunt I studded They screamed in moan Yelled in screech It only streamed to me that most men could Dream of ravishing to this extreme Rushing the barn though the littered yard To answer yet another animals call I looked to see what I had not seen yet A chicken behind a screen I wandered “Who are you” “What is your name” Then the pail white winged thing asked me “Where you from” “Why so steady” I simply replayed “Been through hell in my city living Stood toe to toe with death” In a blink splintering wink With a look eye to eye I was humbled The Bull of the Jungle |
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