The constant buzzer of pain
that ugly fleeting empire
sending out its cavalry
to agitate my nerve tissue, to sabotage
every sound, every smell, every taste
and make me want to be replaced
but fail.
The constant buzzer of pain
that ugly fleeting empire
sending out its cavalry
to agitate my nerve tissue, to sabotage
every sound, every smell, every taste
and make me want to be replaced
but fail.
The tiny sheepdog was very experienced, but the flock panicked and he died in the wool.
They don’t believe me, and they split
One they goes on and on repeating it
The other they says, spitefully, cope!
I despise them, and become a misanthrope
Mightless words ! Vehicles of nothing
flapping their wings (in pain), clacking their beaks,
barking to a dying possum,
The cattle is furrier
The mountains are sharper
The birds cry louder
The houses are homelier
And the women
I told her over tapas
That I have two papas
between olives and anschovis
Oh, well, c’est la vie