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Will you take it from me now?
I’m crying,
And my sins are holding me up.
I’ve died,
And I’m holding all your hope in my hands.
Will you take it from me now?
You warred,
With my patriotic inclinations.
I thought I was imitating you.
You fought,
I fought back,
And you cried me to sleep:
You numbed me,
Until feeling was a choice:
This great game,
In replacement of life.
And the jeweled kings
Come up from the lack of,
Not from poverty.
You understand?
My parents fucked,
And produced something,
Not to be fucked with.
My parents fucked,
And produced something,
Parentless, ultimately.
The term-limited king,
Envied the president’s expectations,
The president’s face was bloodied,
Regardless of the height he fell.
And you speak to me with your words.
I can’t understand!
Stop the fucking translation,
I told you,
I can’t understand!
Come, talk with me.
And the ants are carrying with them,
Parts of the body,
Which was greater than them,
Only formerly.
He’s sticking his finger in my chest,
And looking down on me;
He remembers,
He was this weak too.
She is walking into,
Her little coffee shop University:
Still supporting the president,
Who can only be senator,
Still going on about virginity,
And how compassion can heal,
The hatred which seeps,
Out of her stretched cunt.
