Everybody in the house
Everybody in the house
F**KING CELEBRATE
Who will Watch the king
As he collects up his things
And throws them in a pile of black holes?
Not I, my brother, not I
For I have not met your mother
Nor my mother, the king must have stolen her
For I have seen the bright white light
Shining bright white light in our faces
As we twist and turn in the filth
Rotting, trust me, rotting away
Into the filth the king must go
And in the filth, his things must be
Or be the king a girl
And God hast bestowed us with a queen
And her things would not be collected
And we would have a ruler
But fear not for I have seen the light
Hidden in the dark, hiding bright
Shining bright white light in our faces
As the king collects his things
And the queen collects not her things
And into the black holes on pale black wings
And as they fly they sing:
"Everybody in the house
Everybody in the house
F**KING CELEBRATE"
YOU ARE READING
Psychosis (Poems)
PoetryTruly the ramblings of a mad man. These poems are the predecessors of From The Heart, except these come from the mind, but that of a deranged mental patient. Actually, think of me as a deranged mental patient. That shouldn't be too hard. Now you mig...
