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I find my mind wandering aimless
Weighted heavy by a mushroom cloud miasma of stolen micturations and rotting leaves
A mouth like a storm drain;
Teeth caked with the soils and cast-offs of autumn;
Gargling through a slough of interrupted dreams

The colour here is nondescript;
Leached of sense and purpose
Heart riding shotgun in a hijacked hearse at the head of the serpent
The body's in the back
A lifetime on your back
Piss and vinegar as spirit dressing
More than happy to embrace the grave

We took all your used up gods out the back of Eden and did the decent thing
They're all gathered, shattered craniums draining;
Lolling tongues intoning the grave mass

Amongst the filth and roots and sashaying worms;
Befouling the feral carpet of this decomposing deity dance hall

It's a stateless carrion nosedive
All just a race to nature's basement

I really dig graves

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