I dream of the day when stormy tears dissinagreate like sand.
When the hope of the poor inspire the change
The cardinal eye of justified hope
Bleeds through the thoughts of broken hands destroyed by the hammer of deceit.
A Japanese whisper
A mountain of despair
The road along the highway swallowed up all those many more
Raping the posterior question of desire
And honoring the hangnail bloody stump of society
Gives me a fuckin headache
Don’t sit and honor the wicked
Don’t feed them from the bile within.
Strap up your pride
Take control of your acid reflux of regurgitated lies.