Joker Face

He could do whatever he likes, that's because he's insane/
And he would have a hell of life, if he could just kill Bruce Wayne/

He's got his green hair slicked up/
Cooked grenades and Harley Quinn in the pick up/
Looking in the mirror, stuffing a flag in an open bottle of liquor/
The tv saying he a sicko, but he don't care, now it's time to pick the clique up/
Hopped down the steps, jumped in the whip/
Reloaded his "Bang!" gun with one or two clips/
Opened a bag of M&M's, only eating the green ones/
Speeding through red lights, and stopping at the green ones/
A true maniac, if you've never seen one/
Parked in front of Arkham, he about to free some/
His face, as pale as a ghost, asks the chick at the front desk,"Wanna hear a joke?"/
like..

His plan is pretty clever tonight, he just freed a few of his friends/
Waiting for the Batman to show, so they can start beginning the end/

He doesn't drink al-al-al-al-al-alcohol/
But he inhales chloroform and ethanol/
Breathing in nitrous, until he about to fall/
Now he's grinning ear-to-ear, and he at the mall/
Throwing gas canisters down the hall/
Watching people laugh 'til they die, he had a ball/
Having the time of his life, not realizing, it's that time of the night/
Not until he hears the glass and crashing of lights/
Not until he was getting his pistol/
Took a look out the window and peeped the signal/
like..

Mr. Freeze all tied up, now Catwoman's fighting/
Two-Face letting off shots, and Killer Croc's biting/
26 second's later, it's over in a cinch/
He laughing so hard, the punch came, he ain't flinch/
His jaw all jacked up, so he can't snitch/
Couldn't explain the punchline that everybody missed/
Now he's so cool, calculated calm/
Handcuffed, up in the truck, no cause for alarm/
No tricks up his sleeves, no gadgets on his arms/
No guns, no acid, no buzzers on his palms/
Went to Arkham with no fight, no jokes, no qualms/
Cuz they don't know he left like six bombs in the mall/
He grinning like..

Comedy

This is a joke.
Life is a joke.
Comedians are prophets, teetering on the precipice over a great abyss,
An endless void of all knowing..knowing nothing.

Life is a joke with limitless potential and possibility, but with only one punchline.
Punctuated by lines that never left Pryor's mind,
Were stifled in Carlin's heart,
Can be found in the breast-pocket of Bernie's church suit,
Fell out of Kinnison's trenchcoat,
And into Chappelle's hands.

Like a breath on the wind, soft whispers from court jesters lend life lessons.
They know life lived is also life lessened.

Faith is not lost on lovers of comedy, one imparted:
"Why do folks live in Tornado Alley?
Because God will protect them?
Who do you think sent the tornado?"

Sick and twisted, and in-synch with what's sane,
Comedians light fires under complacent kindling, a calculated 'killing'.
Poignant and poisonous philosophers with a secret;
Some solace in this truth: it's all a joke.

And comedians are prophets, sitting on the rim of Gabriel's trumpet,
Glaring at the warning
Stirring in the angel's throat.

Laughing, they get it.
Unforgettable..

Symmetry

Caught between a rock and a hard place/
My fluid thoughts moving across this hard face/
I lost pace, trying to keep up the crimes/
And lost the race, didn't note the change in the times/

But as long as I've got my trench, gloves, and hat/
I strike fear in the city I love and that's that/
I put a bat to the back of these hoods, thugs and dregs/
Put crooked cops to sleep, drug dealers to bed/

First night on patrol, I remember he said:/
"I killed her, I need help, arrest me now!"/
My reply: "Men get help, dogs get put down."/
Put the knife to his head, my face splashed with red/

That night is known (for those who don't know that)
As the birth of Rorshach and the passing of Kovacs/
I detect with each step, my mind a cold ax/
My tactics help collect the cold facts/

The end is nigh - I can hear it coming/
Prostitutes lead the parade of politicians' procession/
The end is near - I can hear the drumming/
So I'm putting on my face: my city's ugly reflection/