“Bush League Player”

Black and blue, are colors used.
In a portrait can-vas wonderland.
You stroked my brush, dipped it in lush.
Then wiped it clean, and made us look obscene.

So dig way down deep, and conjure up the mean.
Spirit you unleashed, you fulminated my beast.

You're a Bush League Player. You're a Hater.
You're a Nine to Five, Early Celebrator.
You're a Quick Fix, You're a Quick Buck.
You're a Head Over Heals,
Smother Lover, Down On Luck.
Faker, You're a Taker. You're a Cryin', Lyin',
Cheatin' All the Time and Such.
Rude Boy, You're a Limp Toy.
You're a National Traitor.
Hey You, Bush League Player.

Wonder who, just came unglued?
It's I your friend, until the end.
Remember me, I'm honestly. still standing shocked,
'cuz my numbers already been blocked.

So now's the right time, to tighten up this rhyme.
And fan the scorchin' flames, 'cuz I know you ain't gonna change.

You're a Bush League Player. You're a Hater.
You're a Nine to Five, Early Celebrator.
You're a Quick Fix, You're a Quick Buck.
You're Head Over Heals, Smother Lover, Down On Luck.
Faker, You're a Taker. You're a Cryin', Lyin',
Cheatin' All the Time and Such.
Rude Boy, You're a Limp Toy.
You're a National Traitor. Hey You, Bush League Player.

Solo:

Down in dumps, is where I'm from.
Been low so long, I feel I don't belong.
But heed my words, I'll swoop in like birds.
Then take your worm, and give you a lesson learned.

So know of me now, I'm a twisted swirling cloud.
Hear my throat roar, and feel the pierce of my sword.

You're a Bush League Player. You're a Hater.
You're a Nine to Five, Early Celebrator.
You're a Quick Fix, You're a Quick Buck.
You're a Head Over Heals,
Smother Lover, Down On Luck.
Faker, You're a Taker. You're a Cryin', Lyin',
Cheatin' All the Time and Such.
Rude Boy, You're a Limp Toy.
You're a National Traitor.
Hey You, Bush League Player.

Music and Lyrics, May 9th, 11:43pm, 2020:
Peter J. Beauchemin