Call it the home stretch
that’s such a joke
nothing to drink there
nothing to smoke
no bed to lie in
made or not
nothing but black mud
nothing but muck
They say we wandered
in from the stars
our hearts are bellows
our brains are jars
vessels we’re trapped in
adrift in the foam
hang my hat on my head
I’ll call that home
What is the song of the day?
No comments:
Post a Comment