Lungs Forever Eighty-four
Ceaseless praise creases rivers into eyes.
Bowed down around that gash you’re so pleased about.
Submission pose.
Prone to thrones misplaced blame erected out of bones.
Upselling your life for a soul,
and all of that hope will follow
into the gaping hole
it was switched for after the bait took.
The shakes long for good slaves to be.
Forever eighty-four.
Ceaseless praise creases rivers into eyes.
Your sexuality a one-way street, razored off.
Betrayed by the ones you love,
drugged up by that heavenly con job.
Upselling your life for a soul,
and all of the hope will follow
into the gaping hole
it was switched for after the bait took.
The shakes long for good slaves to be.
Forever eighty-four.
