They spoke with Bertrand Russell on the heart's of modern skeptics
The newspaper he read from twinkled like an epileptic
It was boring until sunset shouted down the man’s phonetics
On the corner of a rabies shot and paranoid delusions
He skipped through the democracy and suffered deep contusions
Intermittent lawlessness; the cause of revolutions.
Born of flesh the Hero dies at hands of institutions.
On the corner of a time constraint and false sense of myself
A bartender will pour a shot and drink alone his health
Dividing out the remnants of a murder victims wealth
Two pence for the mother and the rest goes on the shelf
On the corner of a sweater vest and Marxist nation state
Many fools collect the hearts of damsels laid in wait
Distracted beyond forgiveness in their progress toward a mate
Each will count the cost and find it hard to separate
On the corner of a Tuesday and black journals without lines
She caught a bus to
Unaware the highways are all booby trapped with mines
The writer wrote tomorrow and choked softly on the rinds
No comments:
Post a Comment