97
Rushing the fallen road
Better to decompose than have all the tomorrows of the world
The galloping harm happens to stop at the inside bridge where
Decency and rage capsize- sinking abreast
Would not they expect some form of special treatment?
The wax saloon is filled with knocking
The sound of the cemetery gates bumping
Grief is loose and un-announced
Expected mourning comes a rolling, drinking, clinking in consolation
The terrible poor nail shut the opening,
Wailing something about an elixir.
Expected mourning comes a rolling, drinking, clinking in consolation
The terrible poor nail shut the opening,
Wailing something about an elixir.
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