1When paradise paints a predominantly mixed-up picture
Of all gluttons for quickfire punishment
People with miserly smiles switched and intertwined till appearing all kinds of blind-sided and superficially, substantially, real
These over-zealous sonsofbitches with paramilitary eyes for cross-firing summarise, unsuspecting debutante demise
For all that we really do know it can go one of too many ways altogether
To ever get to count ourselves in again…
2 We sin when we are winning…
Lost cardboard cut-out versions of serendipitous little sweet-stealing kids when placed upon the broken-hearted skids
Soon as we appear to let ourselves lose a translucent piece of the other compulsive person’s playful plagiarism
Dishevelled and distantly depressed were the pair of Us – two eagle-eyed, shadow-casting, juvenile imbeciles, up until…
You walked on in inner-between
The eye of my-oh-my locomotive storm
About to poach yourself and warm to warning… the erstwhile cockles of its singular being
3Been meaning to all-out-amount
Just… that adulterous fact does tend gently toward beating the lopsided friction of case-in-point fiction
