| Spend the rest of your days here, I know it, I know it
|
| Find a way to disengage here, I know it, I know it
|
| Let the barren tree bring you shade here, I know it, I know it
|
| I know that darling death’s on the lose
|
| Opulence will never seduce
|
| Your payment presumptive and severe, I know it, I know it
|
| You buy what is earned, you the wise fear, I know it, I know it
|
| So eat all my fruit and get gone dear, I’m growin', I’m growin'
|
| Whether spirit, breast, bone, or meat, you’ll always be feasting on me
|
| She kept a record of everything that happened
|
| Exactly as it happened
|
| Every interaction captured in exacting fashion
|
| Not a diary, but somethin' to be dissembled with dispassion
|
| Carefully taken apart and the wiring examined
|
| Bent her wrist to write, it looked like a butcher’s list
|
| A knife folded in the folds of her dress
|
| She’s nobody’s muse
|
| She wears a dead man’s shoes and tracks the move
|
| Down to the ground glisten, the only sound hound snippin'
|
| Suzerain
|
| Nothin' can exist without permission in the book what it listed in
|
| Charcoal sketched the men, the pen scratch some limbs
|
| Pages full of such you won’t see again
|
| Suzerain
|
| She never drew his face
|
| She never wrote the end
|
| Just left a blank space
|
| Her knee never bent
|
| Everything swim in her eyeglass lens
|
| Erased the sun, left the world to spin |