satan's little trick on my brothers is whores

Be careful out there brothers . . . We who you end up sleeping with might be who you end up sleeping with . . . least you slip up with the town whore and end up tangled in her unfaithful death brothel . . . no need to worry horny dogs! you keep singing to the smelly sisters thier eve is dire. don't loose any blood over a gorgeous slut who bangs every tom, dick, harry, doug, jerry, slick, billy, jimmy, john, barry, terry, larry, garry, mark, clark, and you get the picture right. save yourself the trouble treat a rock like a rock. don't lick it. it's a damn rock brother. it's a hard stone: jagged, made for throwing, let it lay there and work. let the rock lay there and be a freaking rock. don't try and turn it into a marble statue. use it: knock some fool the hell out with it, throw it at something: hit a dog, bust out a cop car window, sling it through your boss's backdoor, whatever . . . but please let it lay there and take it like a freaking rock . . . don't try and change it. trust me. too many of you brothers have taken rocks you've found on the ground and tried to make them turn gold. why? oh brothers how i want to tell you what i know. i've fallen into a death brothel with satan's little fettish peeking in my weary heart . . . the best i can do is not care . . . which i've already decided to do without any relapses back to what formerly felt about satan's little plan for me. . . you sisters will never get the super poor kid in your den of treacherous lies and deception and maze of slut monkey tricks . . .