They nit-pick and swoop to scoop atop of our living, seething entrails
To have and to devastatingly have-not, far-fetched a la rooted to the truthful spot of our eager-beaver beings
This ballerina’s been singing perched upon my scintillated interdependency
And these animalistic comparisons are killing Me
Feather-winged, dotingly delirious concoction – puppeteer-faced and fastened and bolstered right by their very own killer-strings
We smoke caffeinated cigarettes to poke fun at the how on Earth the other person works wonders upon themselves
And We all dreamed to be deceptively unfastened by our eagle-eyed summarise
Puppets upon cutthroat ropes of our very own – settled to cope no less vilified by Knife
Appears to be that We are on the edge of real reasoning harpooned by rhythmic reckonings – all of it teething to tear Us problematically asunder
‘Twas fun while it lasted you motherf**king blast from the past
Arisen at quickening will, to delightfully shrink midst over-invested sight
Hark now hidden angel, hear Me roar… heavenly restored when least suspected
The projector is off by a millimetre
…blink and We miss it by ten-thousand degrees
Miss it and We appear to be strenuously bleeding right by the bigotry bicep
Bombastically misshapen, supercalifragilisticexpialidociously mistaken mishaps of our delusional own – prone to pretending til inescapably winning again
None too willing whatsoever, this kinship pen reels to tell no white-lies all by itself – intensified til pulverised by the lightly lit light
Encapsulated to placate our feather-constricted date with unfathomable fate
Analyse our eyes, p-l-e-a-s-e, and You shall see
Needlessly breathing, paramilitary-winged individuals with these tethered coping mechanisms
Each to their ashtray-arisen own
Bounce like a bare-knuckled bird come back no more – for these non-entity sacrilege surround sounds do pulverise to pound the violent grounds of found yesteryear’s over-entitlement
Sacrosanct and thankless, Munster does carry with it a monster inside of its perishing wings – high ‘n’ mighty enticement stings the simplest of beings into self-aggrandised relinquishment
All of it long over and long before… he ever learnt to cope with the scope
The barrier of broke-down brilliance lies right by my advanced highway… only now you need to hold me closer tiny dancer
I said softly, slowly
Stroll with me
For I’ve had a busy decade today
