Its a new dawn, its a new day, its a new life for meeee,
And I'm feeling ill.
My throat is clogged with cloggotry, my head is full of cotton I think I'm going to throw up, and my eyeballs feel like they have just been exposed to a sandblaster.
I am only a slave poet
And my chains are those that are worn like armor
By the most foolish dictators idols to their own grotesque
Bury me with my flute, a knife, coins on my eyes
And say you knew I was unrepentant
No comments:
Post a Comment