outcome

seventeen years in the city

static clinging to the ceiling

never did i think it would come to this

never did i think it would come to this

bright cops and cheerleaders

eyebrows painted on their heads

a mouthful of rotting cavities

drinking coca-cola in the street

never did i think it would come to this

never did i think it would come to this

shot in the leg

shot in the leg

my leg is a bone

nobody home

my hand is a wire

the skies are fire

the drums are beating

pistols and jeans

left for dead

left for dead

left for dead

dead as a fly