Heretic entertainer,my occupation was dirtied
by the barbershop next door with blood on his floor.
Most people see the smoke and say nothing,
the furnaces lit all night long.
Violent entertainers have joined the circus freaks,
the pythons drift to sleep,
lulled by a ceremony of rituals.
under water floating was an art formula,
I saw mathematics in my rear window,
every day of this fucking road.
God save the queen, I am getting tired.
Let us candor one last melody before the departed grave.
Rise up against the sun,
breathing and haunting our realms again,
once over and backwards,
giving into the thought of night and being here.
safety forgotten in the tumult,
we lay down for our "sins", I suppose,
if we must.
I don’t want to though and I don't see my mistakes as sins anyway,
they help me learn,
and remember to not forget, as it were.
Listen to your own heartbeat,
try and fix the history if you want to
but I would focus separate and within, on the now.
The water is getting close to the sand
and we are tuning into this perception,
this channel is changing and we are moving
and sinking with it.
Keep close and breathe it out.
Secrets and dynasties are not going to aid us forever,
We need new language and resistance
to serpentine fluids injected
into the brains of our ancestors.
I can urge you forward if you care to drink
unmarked bottles,
speak in wicked tongues as saints of the underworld.
I am an empath to the so-called demons,
listening to their haggard tales and tears,
lay soft in my lap
and I will stroke your hair
until the screaming in your head
slows to a stop.
while the bastards in the belfry
are howling out for help,
I cannot just let them suffer.
I take the inferno staircase alright,
no harm comes to us if we remember
who we really are,
light mists and angels alike,
though fallen to the crust of the earth,
we are still golden.
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