Mps

Under lines of trees

inside caves that open up to cityscapes

i was a failure and they found me out

i was a drunk and blinded sailor

to sew your insides close

these are landmine carburetors

i find it hard to believe that the medicine is helping me

at the end of the day

the computer screens give blue and silent offerings

at the end of the day

view that all the trains are churches

and roads like muddy water

they gave you poetry and endless hours of conversation

and it affects the colors over

i'm a drawn out corporate warrior

on the night that smells like water

your crutch and your cross

your voltage your watts

and at the end of the day