• I'm a wrestler,
    I'm a poet,
    I'm an artist, don't you know it?
    I'm a literary teacher,
    I'm a moralistic preacher.
    I'm a simple urban white-boy,
    I'm a nerd, and I'm a jock;
    I'm the last man on a battlefield
    that's bathed in bloody rocks.

    Ya see, these people call me gay
    and don't half know the truth;
    I'm but a lone experiment,
    my attitude is proof.
    It's all because I'm something odd,
    Pariah of the earth;
    It's all because I'm different
    and I guess I fit that turf.

    They ask my sexuality,
    They mutter that I'm not;
    They whisper in the cesspools
    of the lav while smoking pot.
    They slither rather slowly, and
    They've arrived just in time
    To see the one they've banished
    Rising up above the grime.

    Ya see, these people called me gay
    and kicked me from their class;
    They punched and kicked with fists of steel
    and spoke with tongues of brass.
    But now I'm back, and stronger than
    their words of hateful crass.
    I'll walk up to the nearest one...

    and introduce my foot to his a**. twisted