Ceaseless praise creases rivers into eyes.
Bowed down around that gash you’re so pleased about.
Submission pose.
Prone to thrones misplaced blame erected out of bones.
Upselling your life for a soul,
and all of that hope will follow
into the gaping hole
it was switched for after the bait took.
The shakes long for good slaves to be.
Forever eighty-four.
Ceaseless praise creases rivers into eyes.
Your sexuality a one-way street, razored off.
Betrayed by the ones you love,
drugged up by that heavenly con job.
Upselling your life for a soul,
and all of the hope will follow
into the gaping hole
it was switched for after the bait took.
The shakes long for good slaves to be.
Forever eighty-four.