Your black hair is like the beard of Leonidas

I feel the urge to kill a wild boar

And offer its meat to your profile pic
In a blaze of primal manliness and beats of drums

I will not fail to speak of your muscular form

A lion would quake if it realized what you do to Alligators
I questioned a black hole, “what do you fear?”
“Travis Page” he told me in Morse code

Wouldn’t it be crazy if you split an atom with your face?

I don’t think that it is out of the question.
Aaaaeeeiaahhhhh! Doesn’t even come close
To telling us about your suave demeanor

Helen of Troy thought that Paris was you in disguise, just weaker
But realized her mistake and a lot of men died, good job Helen.
Where for art thou Travis? You are the muse of song
That gets out of bed late and leaves the lid up