Scream the wolves asleep.
Pray to god to wash
the blood from the gutters
of these black streets.
This is the Summer Of Man.
No 45 caliber killer,
just guns for hire at the lemonade stand.
Think about the future
and prepare to taste lead.
Make a call to the mayor
and tell him
to bring out his dead.
Let's tag em
and bag em.
We've got a
mess on our hands.
But never you mind.
We'll take to the palace
Hold the evangeline
at gunpoint
until they meet our demands.
A high speed getaway
has left me semiconscious
Let my jailhouse tapes
become media fodder.
I've lay down the gun
Now I lay the daughter.
Jesus help me now.
Hell is my certain destination.
I'd go there now,
but I can't afford gas
at the filling station.
So what's a boy to do,
when he has nowhere
to go.
Should I bend to the
gatekeeper and prepare
to blow?
Or do I not need yet
to sink that low?
I guess for now
I'll hang my body
from a noose by the window.
While my soul dances
with ghosts
in a drunken limbo
|
Submission Name: In Limbo
