You, hug
Lug, me
In out of the tree divine-side
Wanton slide off dumber said than done and I
Once led a coalition to the new rhyme why they
Went there in time to stay like there were no heathens
But ourselves
Selves
Selves and selves and cells of selves and
Others hitting hidden clubmen clubbing
Like love like lubbing and struggling to make do
In the streets with gash and bruise the politie
Of the times said No, of course, we did anywho
Where there were two and started the love royale
To stale-mate the lungs’ architect in other direction
Of the train that was bombed
And no one called it off so here we are
And I look down and see how far it is until my body hits
The floor, the ground, the concrete
Mangled bones
Turn to stone
No other worry
When we’re all extinct
But does time sink?
And so time passes
But does it sink?…