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lyrics

the apple never fell far from the tree but apples aways felt like oranges for me,
the limelight shone sour through the lemon looking glass
and this niggers some edgy looking ass
fool,
dusty tool in a toolbox of dreams and fears,
each arrears felt like years taken from emanicapated souls of old and the cold bites sharper [and quicker] than any shark knows

behold the beholden
teeth marks engraved on the neck blood red til they’re golden and stolen kisses turn fonder longing
succumbing to desire and the ire of the north poured forth like bullhorns
so what the fuck this matter anymore
any call answered with the sound of ear ringing silence
preached non violence throwing punches in sermons and the congregation remains undecided
tiptoed on the edge of life and death like derrida derrided
like the gods above provided
binary opposition to meek submission left the vicar shellshocked
shirt untucked he gave no fucks and killled with his eyes
a solitary tear dropped and they threw a non stop pity party
donated sweet nothings from honeys and bitches with newly sewn stiches in their sides and they laughed as the poor man cried
outside of constraint of human hearing
his suffering became suffrage and depression became endearing to those fearing the devils nearing would leave em peering in tombs in deep below catacombs
til death entered those dark rooms

so i ain't been church in a fucking minute
left sermon early,
collection plate empty on its last visit
angel hit up me but i’m too broke,
god damn plans went to shit
hit by
a lost religion, chronic indecision and financial attrition lead to derision
a path well travelled by me
a cult story of riches to rags
so catch me bumming fags off strangers
or
maybe later i might be about
predilection for immature decisions so im splitting gains made into losses and im feeling neo gothic as i hyde myself
cackling rambling as i cried to myself
i lied to myself
seams torn like the seventh seal
so catch me on horseback
stick close to death
the only truth like im rorschach
seeing pictures differently the difference be
i am me
whatever the fuck that means
individuality expressed after fourth syllable

credits

from in various disguises, and the splitting of ego, released August 25, 2018

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seigfried komidashi Sheffield, UK

depressed motherfucker moonlighting as a poet

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