Stray not after ye passion
Lest ye slip into crashings
Conquer and subjugate that will
That one that’s out to kill
Your immortal soul
Your subliminal hold
Don’t give it away
Don’t let it play
Circumcise that infatuation
That devastation
It’ll only bring you down
Its only a fleshy crown
An intellect
An intellect
Must ye perfect
A dialect
of humanese
Disinfect
that disease.
No comments:
Post a Comment