Flossing the neck lamps.
Tramp built guillotine sat.
Glamour daemons anguished upon their fishing from the lists of dark moon rituals.
Calculator buns, fresh from the oven, ready to eat upon their half of the second street, horns and a coven whom hath been gathered.
Onion, Top Hats, Potato, Coal and Hatred used to summon the Captain of the great flush
He’s a tough nut to crack, even standing overdrawn by the rain next to a tobacconist. Muttering sweet hatred into the street corner, hoping your pity is worth another box of dime store magic.
Ever the half-life, shirt stained by ignoble truth he watched them, and all who come to pass. Daemons pay him little if any attention. Go about their endless quest to hear the fires of hell just a bit longer.
Shagging off the last of the most important smoke of the day, sagging and calving edgy cardboard boxes covered in blankets that keeps just enough of the downpour out. Aqualung is muttered, as he slenderly steps into the Dreamlands.
The donky hanging down
Building up all that
Their is no stopping
For Progress, were hard hats
We die slowly
Nothing is growing
Harsh light glowing
City zoo full of fat cats
Look up at growth
For gentrifier sloths
Grope, slurp, rope
We’re guillotined hopes
Smash up your limousine
Take over all the pralines
Eat my oysters in Vaseline
Got to be able to work green
Crack up the tarmac
Mouth of a sarlac
Gout attack far back!
Sticks in my cognac
Grimed hi fives survive
Hatchlings storm upon the graves
Stave, are you still to betray
Guillotine takeovers to persuade
Freaked with pink specks above the wing, oh Pegasus
Length of your abroad sailing on that rack
I struck by saturnism, a soiled being of mirth
Naught, uncle verily sold unto me a fandangle disposition
Oh mooncalf I hear you spake, the numbing cheat would but be a faster expiry
Fain I am, I call
Gods acer, you be in amount regardless
Such day, yea I drink from young blood of ye?
Neigh, it be but ague to your conistution
Slipshod my night, soon but I do.
dangerous thunderheads brought on by political blunder headsshreds of all the buildings, stings from hail and crops that failed
will we be able to sail away from this place?
or rebuild to the wee hours?
shelter is in the church tower
doesn’t matter if you are so endowed
cower, from these storms and the winds power
irony of the day that it was some of these believers
procedures that made such a mess of this
climate depression, and the cowering congregation
if it seems that Gaia is angry, perhaps that’s just debris in your supree
this angry orange man
does whatever he can
to take all you care about
twist into a doubt mouth
he’s going to get worse
soon all of us will be in a hurse
dangerous blunder heads brought on by political thunderheads
shreds of men, stings from baileys mail and promises that failed
will we be able to save us?
Listen to the whole hootI don’t care who you moot
It’s the owls erection
Feathers and a fuel
Found your stool?
Blackberries leaking literally
A hooted obituary
Rights to the valedictory owl
Chewing the beastly buckets of chicken
I’ve never not been written
My opinion I consider to be a worth more than life
I say it once, I say it thrice
I’m partial to a cash filled life
I don’t really care, if you haven’t got any clothes to wear
I maliciously deliciously chew on every bone, till the marrow shows
I’m never going to keep quiet about who I think you are
Oh blessed coffee house, Mercury the messanger
We can connect this day our blessed wifi
The spark of which doth our life continue
For connecting with our people whom we doth seek
Is our solum ask