Conqueror

Image by kerryvaughan
Just imagine, like, a lightning bolt from Zeus hitting that branch while my band wails this shredding instrumental in the background. A wicked, virginal, intense song that makes you want to cry diamond tears and punch cops in the face at the same time, that, like, washes over you like the feeling when you finally piss your pants after you’ve been standing in line at the gas station for like 6 hours because your drummer and some skank he picked up after the show just won’t stop fucking in the shitter. You know, that awesome feeling of relief and rage all mixed up. And then, like, an eagle swoops down and picks me up in its bloody talons and we glide to where my rabid fans are moshing and freaking the fuck out and straining and climbing over each other just to touch me and maybe pluck a feather off my pet eagle, but when some dude tries, the eagle flaps its massive wings, like, super-fast and whips up this, like, killer tornado that just, like, awes everybody, then I can tell that my eagle’s tired so I feed it the tenderized corpse of that asshole who tried to pluck a feather and I tell the eagle it’s cool, he can go on home, I’ll just ride the tornado, then the tornado melds into a shape of, like, a huge gold throne with skulls on the end that I can put my hands on the top of their heads when I’m royally sitting in it, and I get this like, royal throne chariot ride down to the base of the mountain where a limo floating on a yacht on the back of Cthulhu is waiting to carry me to my next gig.