All the usual grounds
have rotten down
and the fields are growing mold
the eras change where we ain't motivated to go.
If you wanna elope
shadow's singing dope,
and we missed aim one last time
roll in debris to wear the new mortgaged disguise.

Rise your head and step
to the new kind of contest
what about the losers stay left to tell.
Judge refuse the shame
pull your input on decay,
prognosis has gone to hell.

Philosophers limn
infinity
in flow of public announcements
but where have we gone, like sheeps on lawn bleat protest.
Give up entry
cemetery.
The death wear the dress of girl
now all I wanna do is to go down on her.