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baise a rottle
tall a coast
howl the roof down
to crush into pulp
the last struggling patches
of sobriety
swing the spring
of this insane society
celebrate your breath
however spirit stained
it heaves in out
to keep you higher
than this
swilling spilling
complement
scream along
to a sing-song
right or wrong
badly tuned
mind marooned
golden gong-gong
then grab that mighty
more-than-sword
and scratch a chord
of chained words
into something, anything
close to comprehensive
and dang ditty
if it ain't poetry
seeping through
a bit of a tipsy spree... very good. Love the slurred words. Even drunk you are so poetic. Well done...
jim : )
flew through the beginning which was the perfect set up for the last STROPHE. dang diddy indeed. smiling all the way back downstairs
that first line. But hey dude I'm at work and sober. I'll
try it again tonite after a beer or ten.
sandspike