difficult times freestyle
streets, the
lookin' at the memories in my eyelids
they have to close before i start to be somewhere else
there's police tape on the play area
to learn life from birds in the sky
the common blackbird hops
shopping trolley nights vandalised
the riddle of life's over in a haiku
peeping furloughed in the creeping charlies
i agree with the guy on the tv tonight
she made us make machines
but we'll face her in our dreams
we bend 'til it's broken off and falls
america plays out like rome on fast-forward
keep saying a word until it loses meaning
then it is just sounds and some moving of a mouth
we are all religious with no man in the sky
be a mad debacle at the barber's
fuelled by what looks like a shed
i smoke over that while my jaw's not dead
got to keep it on the high
can't wait 'til i can't feel my face in the spot