or all of the
suicides out
freezing in the sun,
or all of the rest of
us laughing in empty
rooms
drowning behind
closed doors with
severed hands and
crippled hearts and
are you here to
apologize to the junkies or
are you here to wipe
the earth clean?
are you in love with
the idea of being in
love?
it happens all the
time
the age of unwanted
children
never ends
truth, supplanted by
the
idea of truth
j christ and all his
crippled sycophants
looking for a fix,
looking for
the asshole who owes
them $50,
looking for teenage
pussy while me &
st. amanita are out
drowning in the sunlight,
out crawling through
the desert,
alive in this year
of dying but
worried about the
future
junkies and suicides
and the
always-rising cost
of freedom
the tyrants and
their whoreboys
and you gotta fight,
guns or no guns,
and you gotta be
ready to bleed
because every age is
the age of fear
every forgotten song
is
the one that
should’ve gone to #1
and we know the
words to all of them,
me & amanita,
and we choose life
over
life spent on our
knees
we drive through
ghost town after
ghost town with
the radio up and our
windows down
with our tongues cut
out
no one hears the
truth if all they’ve
ever known how to do
is talk
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