The loyalty, strolls idly by,
Wondering, what it thinks is safe
Worried that it's losing face
And might not make it through.
The times are changing,
But staying fluid,
Druids, Wizards, horny lizards,
Cannot spuriously claim,
That "names" aren't what they do.
As Izzard's kidneys fail & splatter
On the set of his next show
Ross & Ross both thrive & dive
And Ghandi's Agent's good to go.
We all lie back, & think'v England,
Glistening, pinks & browns & lazers,
Tazers, phasers, cockney ravers,
Beef n blowjobs, ready with your gobs n nobs out.
Graduating, from the facile,
Massaging my jerky missile,
Thinking I might change my life, now.
Looking now like Hindu cow, now.
Getting my mouth fit for kow tow chow.
Just won't plan the vaguest changes,
Just because the men are strangers
And because, I'm looking back, now
At the ramblings of a statue,
And that I've been in a vacuum,
With darkness setting in.
The green smoke curls, around my brain stem,
I Realise, I have always been them,
Seeking recognition, from him,
Knowing that I have become him,
But, that he will never love me.
The world can't ever, truly know me,
In advance, of making history,
And I'm not so fucking desperate
That I'm looking for its wink.
If noone really sees me here, now,
Then, I'd better chop my ear off,
Hope that I can feed my family
Maybe, get a dog, or something.
That's the secret of all conquests,
That by flow, & hidden tones,
We can hear her lustful moans,
Like peeling back the skin.
Then her sighing, crying pit,
Can feel the pulsing of the shaft,
And all the glitter of the gristle,
Shiny, sliding, slowly in.
Duneworm, stillborn,
Like skin, still warm,
Making, cavernous release,
Causing her to smash her teeth
And tear, to pieces, torn.
Considerating, masturbating,
Making all the stillness, hewn.
See you all, here, end of business,
Make you all, come back here, soon.
Rogues & ragged, rampant harems,
Making glad artistic moments,
Showing all, that's going well now,
Making all the meanings older.
Brain goes, struggling, gumgrips gripping,
But the sense just keeps on slipping,
Dancers showing all their triplets,
Droplets forming in grey matter,
Madder than a Hatters garden.
I just can't be bothered with the things, you all think, give me meaning,
Leaning on your steaming, given,
Riven by the dirty dozen,
Cloved & burning, cells reopen.
Token of the broken omen.
Wills & Rory, Jackanory,
Flynn & Steadman, recompense me,
With their purist, full inventory,
They can tell me, truth, eventually.
In advance, of making history,
And I'm not so fucking desperate
That I'm looking for its wink.
If noone really sees me here, now,
Then, I'd better chop my ear off,
Hope that I can feed my family
Maybe, get a dog, or something.
That's the secret of all conquests,
That by flow, & hidden tones,
We can hear her lustful moans,
Like peeling back the skin.
Then her sighing, crying pit,
Can feel the pulsing of the shaft,
And all the glitter of the gristle,
Shiny, sliding, slowly in.
Duneworm, stillborn,
Like skin, still warm,
Making, cavernous release,
Causing her to smash her teeth
And tear, to pieces, torn.
Considerating, masturbating,
Making all the stillness, hewn.
See you all, here, end of business,
Make you all, come back here, soon.
Rogues & ragged, rampant harems,
Making glad artistic moments,
Showing all, that's going well now,
Making all the meanings older.
Brain goes, struggling, gumgrips gripping,
But the sense just keeps on slipping,
Dancers showing all their triplets,
Droplets forming in grey matter,
Madder than a Hatters garden.
I just can't be bothered with the things, you all think, give me meaning,
Leaning on your steaming, given,
Riven by the dirty dozen,
Cloved & burning, cells reopen.
Token of the broken omen.
Wills & Rory, Jackanory,
Flynn & Steadman, recompense me,
With their purist, full inventory,
They can tell me, truth, eventually.
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