queen of yuck

Well wishing trolling with trix isn't really fishing  Setting sail for the Isle of reminiscing  Pissing with the wind gives me record setting distance squoze a few extra inches with my secret stance  Turns out nobody's keeping pissing distance records after all keep my disappointment wadded up into a ball as I fly up off the hinges and enter freefall  Who ya gonna call when the people that you count on only stall won't give definitive positions  Basically a fuck you but sent with well wishes misses point almost entirely  Fires me up Fisting the tired queen  Mired in yuck Fit for flab friction Requires good luck  Little bit of skill but still Might we please duck  Pointed concerns framed then postulate  Won't it just burn leave me turned into phosfate Prostrate down before me quietly ignore the loud and often blatant clues left by Satan Or the closest approximation  Don't leave me