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Infraction Distraction!!

If you wanna get a good look

Here is the number... 666 oh 123

Im a joker, man, really. Its all a mind game,

So let us recalibrate the beat.

 

A man in a bar wound up in a storm

Where he felt nothing could go wrong

But any minute now we will generate a sound

That will keep the lonely man strung along.

Hes eating his own insides, acid diethylamide

Running from the bunkers into sands

Where the men who fire against him innovate a system

To blow him sky high into a fan.

It was always just a joke,  they tied him another rope

So they could keep his heartache in a single cell

No lights and no wires, the squealing of tires

Echoing in his head like bats of hell.

When his heart becomes released, hes cured of a disease

That only the lonely men in the world will know

And he can keep it in a jar, at the top of his tower

So he can prove it was never just for show.

 

If you wanna get a good look

Here is the number... 666 oh 123

Im a joker, man, really. Its all a mind game,

So let us recalibrate the beat.

A friend of mine wanted to have this one,

And I gave him a warning from the heart

They howl like hyenas and they drain out the sun,

They were raised this way from the start!

 

Walking from a hotel, escaping from a padded cell

A woman's eyes adjust to the sun,

She turns to a rainbow over a concrete meadow

And she proceeds, repeatedly to run.

A siren sounds and the pigs fly down

And loudly beat her into the ground

But when the people scream for sobriety,

They send in the special ops team.

She is rolled into the ER, her mind is spilling over

Her entrails, for halls, on the floor.

When the nurse comes out, she kicks and shouts

Because needles make her feel like a *****

The man sits beside her, a wall is his divider

But his voice screams for him to be resumed

His will is awakened, the loathing is shaken,

And the wall, by his hatred is consumed.

 

Infraction distraction! A chemical reaction!

A busted heart writhing from a soul unspoken

Attacking the black team, the voices clashing

The bodies piling up and Pandora's  box is opened.

Ripping the cords from her face with his 4word letter grace

He sweeps her off the bed and hangs them by the head

Collides with a building with gold-tooth fillings

Blacksmith, locksmith, shadows in the distance

He turns into a red raw onion on its hind legs

Trying to jump a distance that he cant place

He reaches for a killer bee and instead holds ***

And the birds head changes to a woman's face.

He lingers for a second until the shadows blink

Then he runs into a river to stop and sink

It was there he designed a building of its own kind

Where the woman and him practice witchcraft and sleep.

 

If you wanna get a good look

Here is the number... 666 oh 123

Im a joker, man, really. Its all a mind game,

So let us recalibrate the beat.

A friend of mine wanted to have this one,

And I gave him a warning from the heart

They howl like hyenas and they drain out the sun,

They were raised this way from the start!

Request permission to use this poem
m
Written by
mellow-ds
American
Published
Feb 17, 2011
Lines·Words
68·582
Notes

(c) Ryan Bowdish 2010-2011

Permission

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