Thursday, February 07, 2013

2.645 : 2/7/07 : Gin 2.0

A stink of juniper and rage
a far past age a far past age
And I will not explain to you
the chorus or refrain to you
I can’t decode my brain for you
Not even if I wanted to
Destruction is so close at hand
For everyman in every land
High explosives bullets gin
A train or bus waits for your walk in
There is that refrain again
And me tight lipped no explanation
gin one gin two point oh nine five
an old story not my story lucky he’s alive
merely riffs on self destruction
neither moral nor instruction
intuition nor deduction
cheap device of deconstruction

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