The hungry creed, 

the faceless lunge,

 the firefly eyes, 

the centipede sponge,

 the hurried hill of kingdom come,

the beaten strings and tightened drums...

This is not the time for barren greens...

This is not the place for me

Where is my open solace, my empty grave

Where are my waxy wings you knave

You have stolen every lie i died for

Squandered my coppers with lore

...and her who swerving cars adore

nightime flights of bubbled yeast

cannot quell the thirst adorning me

cannot quell the riding beast of morning

...me

How sore my throat, how torn my coat

The scorn of porn stars burns my tan...

How I sing and cough with sadder smiles

How they run and hide in old Japan

dance hall daisies, flowered roots

london streets now bare of cars

I'm shopping with the shooting stars...

...you would not dare to learn