In the game, I'm Turok, the dino slayer,

Ripping a tomahawk through the raptor,

Makes me think of that one real life hater,

And want to unlock the next chapter…

Everytime I see them in the halls,

They see through me, to the walls,

Act like I don't even exist,

I oughta teach them to cease and desist;

I find myself at home, curious,

Tearing through the streets of Vice City,

And it only makes me more and more disturbed,

I feel like I'm cracking, as I tell you life is shitty,

And I'm tired of going unheard.

So just what form of solution is there?

Perhaps I might change my living,

Drag myself out of this pit of despair,

But no, I've got an idea far more riveting…

With Beretta concealed, I walk silently to school,

And wait until the optimal time,

To teach them that this kid is no fool,

That this kid has reason to his rhyme…

First period, History comes up, I sit back and brood,

The topic today is something like the CiviI War,

I figure, what a topic to get me in the mood,

The thoughts will always be coming back for more…

And so soon the class ends, and I walk off to next,

Sitting in English, next to the teacher's desk,

He goes on and on about Ralph Emerson,

While all the excuses run through my mind…

"Video games taught me to wield a gun!

I deserve not to be fined!"

He snaps his look at me, and asks me a question:

"What is this Oversoul, Mr. Emerson's suggestion?"

So I fire right back an answer of great accuracy,

"Well, the oversoul is what connects all, you see…

'tis the item that bounds one man to another,

The so-called Divine Link, as I would call,

A link which no wrath could ever smother,

'tis the one, the everything, the all."

He looked to me strangely, and then went on,

Returning to his lecture on philosophy,

And the importance of Ralph Waldo Emerson,

Whether we realize it or not, in society;

And then comes lunch time,

The time for me to glow.

I take beretta in hand,

And in my mind I know…

That all will soon be sand,

And I shall have what's truly mine…

In the middle of the hallway,

From the beretta, a blast I produce,

And, before anyone has any say,

The population of Earth is reduced;

I see people in a daze and stupor,

And then the eyes drop to me,

In my mind, I'm a trooper,

And these souls I must set free…

I empty all but one shot,

And I can see them coming to me,

I put the gun to my head, barrel hot,

And pull the trigger, rest to free;

A blast issues, and I fall to the ground,

My job successfully done,

My body issues a powerful pound,

It was all in good fun.

Soon after, they search my body,

For evidence, and the like,

They find something not too shoddy,

A note with words so trite…

"You all deserved what I did,

For the pain you put me through,

I had to keep my emotions hid,

Because I could not be true;

Where could I ever learn,

To greatly wield a gun?

Well, with no great concern,

Video games, my son.

And if you were to understand,

If you were to be in my mind,

Then you would know I died by your hand,

The very warrant by you signed;

So these video games taught me to shoot,

And they taught me how to kill with glee,

Taught me to reduce people to ash and soot,

And to eventually set myself free…"