we've hung a mobile of blades
over our future's crib
just hope the strings our strong
rest easy though under
those suspended swords
as terror and danger
and pain and agony always
lay at the foot of the bed
or under it
we knew this early on
when we signed on
to this fucked up party
some call life
others won't admit to it
while still others have
snorted all the snow and
already jumped
out the window
these words may ramble on
as this journey so often does
over paved and muddy roads alike
through smoke filled days
and crystal clear nights
only after we've finished
can we begin again
only after we've
squirmed at the sour taste
of disgust and displeasure
can we revel in sweet honey
if there's any left
so break out your remedies
and swallow them down
the lights have already been
turned off
and we wait in the dark
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