A Forest Of Stars Mechanically Separated Logic
My mind's eye on a cocktail stick all a'float
In the great urinal. Backed up in a service
Station out of time
Out of service
Floating amidst the froth of a thousand
Miserable piss artists. And many thousands
More
Face down, cornea down, all a'bobbing to the
Beat of 8 billion ball cocks
We choked it all down
We choked it all down
We found ourselves in a battle of wits with
Processed meats
Mechanically separated ideologies. Sheen of
Plastic choking on cheap shots
Human shields as if it's even worth wasting a
Shield on
Merry, merry micturition stations. Everybody's
Cross
All herrings red
Pick a colour. Any colour. As long as it's
Horrible
The prize was a raised eyebrow each and no
Feigning of surprise
Swelling with pride
Spitting nails from our shitty prefab posing
Plots
Two out of three for two men's fermentations
Sake, then?
Not for the first time versus this humourless
Precipitation, let's hit the ground running
Let's hit the ground running
Bursting without enthusiasm...
...Bursting without enthusiasm
I'll be leaving a brutish smear across the
Gods' linoleum
The place should be condemned, really
After all, pride comes before a fall
And sometimes after
Sometimes after
