There's a difference betwen running
And trying to put something behind you

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Liberating or degrading
Hangs from single strings
Nothing comes and no one sings
No one laughs and nothing breaks
See the cracks drip down my face

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Fascinating fascist face
Flash-forward foreshadow
White cold lace
Not as durable as we first thought
But the car is packed
In the parking lot
I light the cigarettes we bought
And now there is no going back
Not back to there
Nor back to that
Not back to night
Nor back to day
Nor back to summers
Far away

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Forget my fascist family tree
The fascist fascist memory
And moustache moustache damaging
Or fresco firefly reverie
Just tell me that I’m yours
Sign the line
Like you have before
This is where we are right now
Two souls alive
In the empty town
Two souls alive
In the ******* ghost god-empty town.

So, What think you of Whitman?
And what say I of Plath?
I understand all but maybe half
On my greatest finest day
(dearest, how’d we get this way?)
How’d we fall so far from grace?
How’d this canyon split my face?
Maybe it’s the trace trace amounts of fascist.

Fascist fascist
Fascinating
Friday fickle convocating
Tragic talent intubating
All the world smiles, undulating
But in the end
You’re still a fascist.

In a twisted way,
it's really rather romantic.
Both too stubborn to ever give in to each other's whims.
Two old dogs refusing to learn new tricks.
They never knew too many in the first place.

They seemingly hate each other.
No love is clearly apparent,
but there's this obdurate will;
this obstinate sense to stick together through thick and thin.
They really must have taken those vows seriously.

It's like two gnarled trees that grew in tandem.
Trunks and limbs twisted towards the light of some shifting sun.
Any attempt to remove either of the two,
would surely result in the death of the other one.