We loathe one another
they love it
brother against brother
state against stateless
and unless
we change, then
them
will be the death of us
the death of me
the end
of it
and
yet we pray to
those gentlemen
who work us for
pittances
I say
give them the shoelaces
and
I'll tie the bow.

they **** me with eight to four
eight hours?
what the **** for?

We are the servants of
the super hate
the gateway to the
altered state
but they
have beaten us there.

I'm going
not sure when
unsure of where.

But it's twenty seven to five against
that they'll sit on the garden fence
like fishwives on their
periods.

Makes sense to the lunatics
who get up to
all sorts of tricks
I ought to join them
become
one of the
stateless men.

One of the gentlemen
but
they
are not
me.