marched from a burning ship into a rained out parade. with a bottle and a bible the dregs are armed to the teeth.
we traded
distinction and praise for the tedious claim that we were wed in the trenches while college boys pine for loveless exchange.
we carry
the fragments from detonated eyes embedded under our bones. we've spilled blood for the sake of fitting skin to the frame but our moneys
is no good here and our memorial has veered off the road.
the locals will bury my wandering eyes at the docks of the potters field
where the rifles of ranking men are equipped with 21 silencers.
at 'em boys. give 'er the gun
at 'em boys. give 'er the gun
I'm
the richest man in town.
I'm the richest man in town.
faith, stand down. five your wings to the boredom that resurrected my
soul.
crash the car. if the motor won't turn over, glory be to god.
jumped from the disloyal waves back up to the
bridge.
renounced the warmth of the turbulent grave.
I found blood on my lips from a covetous kiss and I hope that my home tips its
glass to it.
