Rumors

Don't need to be spread
Like butter on biscuits
Which are good with gravy
That I pour on a sore head
To help ease the pain
Caused by tragic loss
Of delicious beef briskets
Made my my old grandpa
Whose name was Albert
And he had played jayvee
Football in high school
When he heard about that slut

But

She was really a lovely gal
Never more to a guy than a pal
The reputation only came
From a girl by the name
Janet who hated the "whore"
Only because the girl had more
Words in her vocabulary
Including the word "wherry"
And so Janet started the word
Which my grandpa one day heard
And so he went to meet this "Gwen"

Then

He went to her house and knocked on the door
She opened up to find this man she'd never knew
Who pushed her down onto her cold hardwood floor
And whispered into her ear exactly what he'd do
Which made the virgin cry out "Oh please no!"

So

That's the story of why I exist at all
My mother was born out of a rumor
Daughter of a lovely young doll
And a douche who died of a tumor

Petty jealousy had caused the rape
Due to words with great potence
But from rumor there is no escape
Every last one is a life sentence