We handed them our wrinkled damaged
Paper soul’s and they ripped and
tore every last one with there shaking
ink covered bony frail cold dead skelaton hands
Is it the the smell of melted skin and petals
from the humans and beautiful dead flowers
that keeps the dreaming machine..
Turning again and again..
And every now and then
the black suits barge in
and take away the many
And all hope.
And know that our bones
Are what's sought after and taken
In order to keep their cars
rolling more efficiently and smooth
Then there's the other's
that have few truthful
thoughts inside their tiny
hold while they smile
with mouths open and filled with
multi-colored decaying metal teeth
They put their bow ties on slowly
While they cut off their own feet
So they may breath and
dance in the mangled meat...
Its a soothing dance
And an anticipated pain..
At times its like a flaming
arrow shot into thy guts.
So when you hear the bell
Ringing loudly take your
Antique miniature seat and
eat your clown nose immediately.
When the astronauts come in
the night it’d be a swell Idea
To be cutting their limbs off immediately on sight.
They then begin the riding of the ancient zombie-dinosaur-bones
While peeking through the head of our littlest of little gnomes.
They are always soaring high as the eagle’s vagina's
And their eyes are quickly doubling and tripling in sizes.
Ding dong the witch is giving
fellatio at an under water circus
You can swim there for just five
doll-hairs but hurry you must be quick.
Is there out there any where
some where around here a better deal ?
They'd trade their skull's for,
the ticket's to the show then appendix's
For one of our rib's and a pile of dust
but then the truth would be revealed
And we will never be able to except it
And they the many will always reject it.