Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
They're ******** the lid down on the old town and I'm feeling the pinch. It's a cinch that I'll go too, who else but me would they want to ***** But they're barking up the wrong tree. I am the procession of Saints passing by the sinners that make the Angels sigh the low and the high and why would they want to ***** me down too? You have seen it on the scoreboard Demon-one Lord-nil you've had your fill of being used and accused it's time for the night to be fused with the day, for the Angels to step up to the mark and say, 'fuck this for a lark, ain't nobody turning my town into a carpark' Put your Posi drives down or go and unscrew some other old town time for the pigeons to come home and roost.
0
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
Another yellow taxi
They're ******** the lid down on the old town and I'm feeling the pinch. It's a cinch that I'll go too, who else but me would they want to ***** But they're barking up the wrong tree. I am the procession of Saints passing by the sinners that make the Angels sigh the low and the high and why would they want to ***** me down too? You have seen it on the scoreboard Demon-one Lord-nil you've had your fill of being used and accused it's time for the night to be fused with the day, for the Angels to step up to the mark and say, 'fuck this for a lark, ain't nobody turning my town into a carpark' Put your Posi drives down or go and unscrew some other old town time for the pigeons to come home and roost.
john-edward-smallshaw
Written by
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem