I like to smell my fists in the morning
For they contain the remnants…
They contain the remnants…
The remnants…
Remnants of…
Some half-forgotten exorcism
Meaty
The vultures are circling
They can smell my fist meat
Meat remnants
You bore me now
I must return to my slumber
For the sun disturbs my
Coruscating genius

Hark!
The **** crows
For it shows us that it be thy morning
Hark!
The **** shows us...
Rows of dead soldiers because it’s World War I
Hark!
The **** knows
More than he is telling us…
Hark!
The **** crows no more
All the children are dead