This Song.

forgetters – I’m Not Immune

If you could see
For once one inch beyond
The nose that cuts the air
Before your face
You would not sing
My dear with such high zest
About the wonders of this modern world
Is there some place we could go
And use each other for awhile
I’ve got so much to disclose
I’ve got five bucks wait, no I don’t
If you could see
The strings as armys swing through the night
The pious pigs that rub the shoulders of the remote controllers
You would scream and shriek upon the ledge before the brink to see the hatred
That drives the gilded age
I’m not immune to this
In fact I’m sick with the truth
It comes like knives flashing on the senate floor
If all we had to give
Is our consent and will to live
We’ll get the country we deserve
We’ll get the weekends to ourselves

And all that passes for community
Is a backlit cult of idolatry

We love and hate the same five things
Is this the basis for a lasting friendship
I think not
Don’t even try
To grab this microphone from my hand
I’ve got a story that demands your undivided attention
I bear good news we’re going to die pretty soon and then this inkless blot will be effaced
Is there some place we could go
And use each other in the dark
I’ve got so much to get off
I’ve got so much no one wants
I’m not afraid anymore
I killed that boy and took his head
Withdrew my name from the race
I wasn’t lame, I was estranged

One thought on “This Song.

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