| In the morning i stretch, yawn and reflect
|
| On the lucid illusions i saw as i slept, like
|
| Plumes of pollution that pour from the depths
|
| Of this beautiful fusion of cause and effect, like
|
| Man hits face, and face hits floor
|
| Act this waste, and stay this poor
|
| Smack fist, brace for the traipse in store
|
| Tryna hack this chain with a make-shift saw
|
| As the days bring war
|
| Poor little loon on a slave-ship
|
| Moored to an orbiting moon
|
| On the rain-kid shores of a haunted lagoon
|
| Where the stray pigs squawk an inaudible tune
|
| Gormless buffoon
|
| Eyes in a copper cup
|
| Swapping them for pints with the flies at the dog and duck
|
| Bottom’s up
|
| Call time then i’m mopping up lies
|
| Like a drop of blood sliced from a rotten gut
|
| My what a spot of luck
|
| The drizzlers cease
|
| I’ll be chilling as the winds bring the blistering heat
|
| Sizzling the innards of the lizards and sheep
|
| That wriggle in the inner limits of a city of freaks
|
| A mythical beast
|
| Like the skunk-eyed botanist
|
| Looking for a knife i can cut my losses with
|
| Sun-dried promises stunk like rotten fish
|
| Tongue-tied, hopping this crumb-sized monolith
|
| Straight shaking, like a skag fiend
|
| Fondling the face of his page-three vaccine
|
| Face these bad dreams, make tea, chat breeze
|
| Jam lean, chained to an HD flatscreen
|
| Traipse these backstreets lightly
|
| I boot through blue goo
|
| This is what my psyche’s reduced to
|
| You see as i see and i see as you do
|
| Do you, i’ll do me, slimy as puke stew |