dont you

think about death in palm prints
risk the plague for the right set of lips though
you got some beauty cells there, might be the
next step of evolution, wont you think
and some thoughts will break out
some eat iron even
if you give them a moment
they're hungry

been a fever dream, this year and the last
sweat washing you down delta nowhere, smash
your head on the rocks in the profiteer's scotch, fuel
true feelings they've hid during another office non-hour on the couch
halfway up the ladder in corporate paradise, dont look down just
open your mouth when shit's pouring

dont you
be a sign of the times, will you
be the shaken or the stirred in the dirtiest martini
or the olive, believing
are you on tap or bottle
up
a bubble in someone elses champagne for a while and then fizzle
out screaming names who you thought did you wrong on the roof tops as if
they had ears and gave a crap
dont you
open that mouth
skumpa



its a cheap psychiatrist
telling you to drink water
between the molotovs you set
yourself alight on when you've flown
by the sun and want to keep the sweat on

dont you
go out on me now
god damn
the sunshine, there's nothing
else i can think about