

Thoughts of a Voracious ClockThey whispered to me, "This is God's wrath! Sing for him! Sing for him!"Thoughts of a Voracious Clock
What a shame, the tickling bonds garroting inspiration. Quietly you fall away into the shadowed monastery. Hiding, smoldering within the paintings of an inward faced apex Are tiny sinking specs of its inverse reality. Coming up, becoming one, they already are.
Insipid, jaded.
Their presence is nauseous.
They whispered to me, "Inspirations are the Psychotics' delusion. Sing to them! Sing to them!"
Piddling locutions!
Unconvincing, they're no suitable weapons, Dystopian beauty i


VainSomeone's always buggin' me At my front door, I found a piece of poetry, Now what's that for? Answerin' all these questions can Be such a bore, Writin' all these lyrics, my,Vain
I'd like some more.
And I think that I can feel
In these bone dry bones That you've turned to a beggar You think there's something better
Lightin' up my cigarette, My way to anoint, Kind of losing focus now, So maybe pass the joint? I'm not really bored of it, I'd just like a point.
And I t
Gaze

JadedYou can climb But the climb May leave you blind And you can fly But the rest Still pass you byJaded
The rest is gone When you've made it through Just the skeletons And the lies
And you can live But the life May leave you shy But you don't mind You just walk Leave it behind
The rest is gone When you've made it through Just the make-up And the feigns
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