death on venus
the east china sea is quiet and calm
my weather changes with the mood
a hard yellow line leads up the hill
(this flesh is linger fickin' good
I want to pray but to whom and how
what gestures to make and what pains to rend
perhaps I can wave at a plane suspended in air
and then I'll begin to unbreak rather than mend
the eye in the sky it roars at me now
full of riveted metal and godliness
the madman littorally screams in the ei
he must be given a knowing audience
someone at ornhub dot com really knows
what the word interstitial means
walk for an hour? wakaranai
there's a gaping hole in your jeans
add a steady refrain that carries you on
with each step a sin to confess
please repeat after me I've done a whole lot
more for a whole lot less
why try? the wind is a squirrely squall
that will snatch your pronouncements away
walking back to my fate
the menacing airbase is dark
trumpets in the park work in shifts
and the gust the gale my god
how sound makes me high
the clouds flatten and the wind lifts