He was birthed with a curse
Fantastic ability to change his mask
Generate Skins from within
Six faces, old six sided ugly was playing with putty
Making faces before five
His fourth eye, dead, dripping dark dye
Down the murky side of whatever perfect life he would interpret for the night
Virgin like tight, to the worlds and their plights
He'd switch skins to fit in, they called him Rustlah Sixskins
Big thin, witch kin, spinning yarns like Stilskin by the million
For anybody that feels him
He made a living as a speaker for the dead, misled, thizz heads
Whose bones he kept underneath his bed
At dawn, he morphed, another mask on with a bright smile
From years of braces, the man with many faces
Trading lives like trading places
His mind a churning eddy, murphy bedding burning through the friendly fire
Dunny need money and funding to start running
So his implant hit a big flash like GET CASH
After work he wear a pig mask and sip a big flask
Quit that, did that on the up and coming Monday, hit that Solomon Grundy
Followed them pinky DIY no gimmick interests down every path until he finished
A duffel bag filled with Rustlah masks
Backseat driver with six voices telling him its all right before the underpa**
Overk**, leave all the hunters ga**ed over ill
Summer's pa**ed the winter will get colder still
He duck, broke a bill, dipped a top a hellish hill, metal filled
A deadly deal signed in turn with seven seals
Opened portals out of Portland to unpopulated planets planning
Painting perfect people picture them exactly where they're standing
Ants under his micro gla**, he laughs behind his Michael mask,"
You are just like me, recycled trash left behind at Bible cla**, blessed
To find a typo's task, press rewind watch life go back."
Stories told in camera phone, structured like a stanza poem
Watching all the ants go home,he was left alone
A stepping stone to where the jesters go to dance and moan