Tribal rituals
.
is failure habitual?
are we addicted to doom?
how much room in the abyss?

Bury your heads in the sand
and you win a tail to pin on the ***
that you are,
the bigger man pulls the trigger
can you?

I'm watching for those that fall through the cracks from the back of beyond
husks of men, old tuskers of men, men who busk, men who beg, men who need a leg up now and then
I'm watching for them and you know who they are,

the one's in the tents paying rent to the stars, the one's on the streets cursing the cars, the mental one, the incidental one, the drunken one, the list goes on sinking deeper and deeper I should keep a diary, but that's far to distressing.

I'm watching as
they're building a political statement,
a pyramid of facts to make more
cracks appear,

the fear of failure goes on.