Cardboard Devils, old sex

Here where the titans beg for scraps

It’s hard to think

“Warm and peachy”

(Here, do you justify the ends? Do you mock them where they stand? Do you love them for their dead?)

Sitting in wait for the moon phase to change

The only way, truly, to deal with this place

“Half circle”

To the gold rush, lover, I’ll go for rights

To marry you sweetly, one november night

My flask will run empty

Unlike the Calvary

(4) Bullet tags on my spurs on the off chance,

(10) That I die in the sand, Or the lawman is no,

(4) Bastard inception of harlot conclusions,

(4) enslaved to the lake where his paramour sleeps

(10) and if I make it west, if it takes all year

(4) I’ll swallow my tongue and curse Route 66

Man it sure would take a hollow bride,

To decline this dowry,

So everybody in the brave new world,

Put a saddle on the nearest creature,

Bow your head and do this for me,

Pray for this world,

Whatever we get, we ****ing deserve

Wrapped in a casket, my darling, she lay

With hands on her death bed, each morning I prayed

For my violence,

To not be inherited,

send me to hell if it means she’s at peace,

I’ll serve my sentence

All senseless death, can be mended,

If you sail to the edge

Starboard off the back of a grizzly

I see the beginning of the ice wall,

Continents of olden days,

I must report back to my country,

The CIA says, “just sit down son”

I will not be ****ing silenced

(Radicals made by a programmer,

God’s favorite psy-op,

The child you dream of, she doesn’t exist,

She’s just as fake as the space)

On the ground where you lay your

Head

(I see patience growing thin)

(True disturbance will run empty

Unlike my paranoia)

Still stuck on the same page I disowned,

Still sick from the flavor of youth,

Found out that the poison was my own,

No truth to the cause,

No deep state lies,

I have seen the elephant

Held its trunk in my hands

I think I’m ready, november

I think I’m gonna need a bullhorn,

To speak with charisma to the masses,

To everybody in the whole wide world,

This thing we don’t speak of,

It’s called “living life”

The end sure is nigh.