2 sickies, a overdue bill, and a signed overtime contract
The trifle things that stand bewteen my salvation
I can picture their sullen droped down eyes now
“If only we could’ve done something, IF ONLY”
Well actually there is something you could do
Put away that shitty look you shoot choose to give
When you cotton onto the company I’ve chosen to keep
Oh yeah I didn’t forget, trust me
When we’re arm in arm on hazy nights
And you gave me a little PSA on the dezins I’ve yet to meet
My lovers giving me a warning of their intents
Slit pupiles, forked tounges, dead langauge
But the matter of fact is only this
They’re here, your not
And right now as we slide down the walls
Of the back of the local supermarket
Exchanging catalysts condensed in a consumable
Exchanging blows on behalf of the newest album
They’ve given me the gift of a pulse that keeps on giving
That’s more then I can say about anything else
Oh my new bestest friend in the whole of ever: Sly
She says she was lead hear by the filth that carries in the wind
Sly tells me she cried into a still a dead tuseday noon
And the voices beconed her to come
They were the first voices that talked to her in months
Voices not backed up with another prescription
Sly see, she looks into my eyes
Sly knows i’m a forien object in the ally’s biology too
Sly reckons I could understand the appeal too
Domestic Poetry 