as I ride sweating
fast to catch the train
Out of sight a dragonfly expires
beneath the weight of a journey that's unimportant
On Kiyamachi
My t-shirt wet I eye the
rat like yakuza
outside the whore house
I hate this street
for reasons of my own
Six drops of rain
threaten to ruin
my plans.
Deadlines and Dying attitudes
are killing me
I'm a victim at times
of my own hand.
Beneath my sweaty tits lies a broken heart.
How can you save a soul
that can't be reached
What can you do
but hold out your hand
or, just cut yourself free
and don't look back
into the eyes of another
doomed sailor
No comments:
Post a Comment