Slick Vic the Guitarist
Had a pleasing style
As he played and sang
With his serious smile:
Sick Vic the Psycho
Just loved to rave and rant
Spewing forth his bile
To the timid and ignorant
And any of those
Who had the gall
To in any way
Disagree with him at all.
Waxing lyrical in cyberland,
Sometimes you didn't know why,
And Sick Vic's code
Didn't allow for any reply,
Which was harassment which,
By his code wasn't right
And only led to an increasingly
Bitter and vociferous fight.
So, in despair
All prayed for the day
He'd find another cause
And pass on his way.
From friend to enemy
In just a single day
Because I'd not agreed
About doing things his way.
Slick Vic disappeared
And I became confused
As Sick Vic emerged
To insult and abuse.
I felt so sad for
He'd been my friend
But his rants and raves
Brought that to an end.
SicVic the Psycho
With that chip on his shoulder,
Would be good if he sought help
Before he got much older.
Two halves
Of a whole
You never knew when
He'd lose control.
Slick Vic and Sick Voc
Such an awful contrast;
I often wondered what ghosts
Haunted him from his past.
