There’s no right precept except the equal exchange
Butterfly stop sweeping now you’re into the gutter
Skies unbelievable close to dirt
They’ll fall and beat you to a butter (dullard!)
Stash. Buzz. Overdose.
Hit. Rise. No remorse.
There’s no fair price except the isolation for peace
Repression for power seems to be the great deal
Dogs keep on fighting for fame and the bone
And gnawing your love that heals all their wounds
You’re so complete with no open doors
Solid and huge only doubts make you ill
There’s no perspective except to be a scoundrel
Be quick find… find and destroy yourself
No right precept
© Copyright: Ярослав Тремасов, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111111308423
Свидетельство о публикации №111111308423
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