I was wading through the floodwaters. You were waiting
out a drought. Do I have that kind of love? Is that what
it would take to see this out? Hold your empty
disemboweled gas tanks up high. Turn them into a bong or
a still… Lotting through the gas stations, tilling up our
backyards… That’s my rosy picture of the end times, my
friend.
Bodies crumble about as fast as a house in the sub, and
what you leave behind is an un-corporeal monument of time
- whether by needle, your own hands, war, an empty belly,
bus, or bug…
… We all go seperate and together. As such, while I’m
alive, show me love!
