CLOUDS

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,

And the nursling of the Sky;

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;

I change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain when with never a stain

The pavilion of Heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams

Build up the blue dome of air,

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,

I arise and unbuild it again.

The Immortal Peter Gilmour,

The King of Extreme,

Eating cake and losing matches,

Is my favourite routine,

I faced Gameboy and lost,

I suffered my brutal fate,

I could've won the match by sitting on him,

Crushing him with my enormous weight,

Madness is much better than I,

I'm fighting a losing battle,

I'll just do the same trashtalk,

That leaves everyone baffled,

But I will fight for warfare,

With my pathetic excuse for a team,

I am a walking sack of lard,

Peter Gilmour - King of Extreme.

Shittin' on deez titles like I'm scat bear,

When people call me Iceman I don't care,

I beat Samuels I'm da boss,

Even though my win/loss is a pile of toss,

Cheap wins don't matter,

I got handed the X-Treme title on a platter,

Then lost it in a few days time,

Vinnie Lane hit me so hard and I consider it a crime,

I got so many faults than could be said in this rhyme,

If there's lack of brown on your title then prepare for the anus grime.

If you're a champ, you should run as fast as you can,

Because I'm the title shittin' beast that they call Iceman.

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