The lords that lord over us are accused of defrauding us.

She crackles and spits and has spurs on her boots and
she sways as she shoots and she always shoots first.

If I thirst for her touch or hunger too much
she walks away.

I burn on a pyre and cry to her,
stay,
looking back on it,
I
thought I heard her say,
'come what may if it came anyway you'd still burn'

It's funny and sad when it turns out to be bad
and you're laughing as if you've gone mad.

I wanted not needed to be shot and for her,
she hits the spot
causes me pain, but
I need to be her target
over and over again until
I become a link to the chain
attached only by the pain on
my face.