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The Range of Motion (Kødd med Sound of Silence)


SlayerDad

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Satt på bussen i morges og inspirasjonen kom over meg. Basert på Simon & Garfunkels The Sound of Silence):

Hello barbell, my old friend,

I've come to deadlift you again,

Because a burn softly creeping,

Left its pump while I was lifting,

And the veins that was planted in my arm

Still remain

Within the range of motion.

In restless gyms I lift alone

But not the atlas stone,

'Neath the halo of ass that sags,

I turned my tricep to the press and drags

When my delts were stabbed by the flash of a new PR

That split the abs

And touched the range of motion.

And in the naked mirror I saw

Ten thousand reps, maybe more.

Reps made without speaking,

Reps made without grunting,

People writing posts that no one would ever share

And no one dared

Disturb the range of motion.

"Fools" said I, "You do not know

Gainz like a cancer grows.

Feel my veins that I might teach you,

Touch my arms that I might inspire you."

But my words like silent reps they fell,

And mirrored

The range of motion.

And the people liked and shared

The steroid god they made.

And the selfie flashed out its warning,

In the images that it was posting.

And the selfie said, the words of the prophets are posted on the forum threads

And read by the muscle heads.

And all forgot, the range of motion.

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