Minecraft turned me into a dick.
–I say that,
–but it probably only swelled the dick in me
–some careful rubs,
–a well timed glance,
–the whole package-to-package sales technique.
I am on your server,
stealing from your farms.
I live underground.
I do not come up for air,
I come up for blood.
Maybe it’s madness,
These California mountains wouldn’t know a good rainstorm in hurricane season.
Ain’t none of that Midwest split-splat goin’ round,
nothin’ to calm the nerves,
no cool wind at the end of a humid day.
I live in a man-made cave system,
My eyes have adapted to see in no light at all.
My sneak key is always active.
I see your nameplate,
And I’ve dug holes thousands of feet deep,
beneath your feet.
–Watch where you step.
I am on your server,
stealing from your farms.
These California spittle sloshes they call rainfall,
They drove me to it.
