Jesus I've had it with this
Acidic bullshit
The pale sky is crying its armagheddon clouds
And weasels are popping into their
Holes
Lancaster bombers dropping on Dresden
And I see what I have become
One whole
One pinched like salt
is
To add flavour
To take off an inch
Cut corners
And cut out the moon
Give it to me
Whole on a silver spoon
Look at my fat life
Given up all the ghosts
Of strife
Given up for dead the altar of tomorrow
I can't keep it
Can't walk the line away
From sorrow
Always fall in the gaps
In the pavement
Jesus I used to be
agile, good at hopscotch
Now it is more likely I limp
To the post box
Sending my letter of thanks
Saying thanks for the life
We had
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