Control? Barely whole no bankroll.
Shaman of a whisky night shouting in silence,
Noise pierces gravestones stranded in defiance,
Ambition? A disease, degrees rigged expertise,
I heard the dirt made them, sequel in concrete.
I heard the guns made them equal in defeat,
A saint, full of grace, compassionate,
But passionate about the tax rate,
Advocates of anxiety dinning on debate, overweight.
Lets extrapolate, suffocate the jugular of the syndicate,
All to Intoxicate the kindred,
I heard its all that matters,
I wish its all that mattered,
I hoped, its all but shattered.
I know shame but its all too hazy, just lazy, sublime.
The putrid languid has me, its bedtime,
Bare hands on my neck squeezing, whispers, you’re mine.