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nat-yoncePoems
Johnny in the garden Cut his hair real close Now With the mower. Says he's got a fever, But you don't believe, Yeah, He's a liar. Spanish Inquisition Rocking through his heart It's Trying to find that Very special section Lets him love again. No, We can't have that. Let's drag him down. Shards of glass and pistols, Mirror in the face, We're Out of focus. Dart him in the eye. Dart him in the eye. Dart him in the eye. Johnny's in the attic, Hanging by a bulb. He's Left the light on. Music's running over Running out of time See How he's running. Let's tear him down. But we don't play that anymore. Johnny's got a different score. It's a song of roaches And cathedrals that he sings - An ode to ***** scatterings. A white ribbon on his right middle finger. Cigarette in limbo, Space between the ears. Dust: Mite-specific. Books of strings and theories Numbers on the shelf Un- Finished papers. He's so fine. He's so fine. He's such a Passionate disposer, Decomposing you. So Decomposing. Let's yank him down. Johnny, in the innards. Lot of help, those ribs. How Much protection? Never in a million Needle in the hay One Into many. Brother John is dying, Agonizing pain- Ful- Ly apparent. Choke, choke, choke. Dance, dance, dance. Chance, chance, chance. Johnny Roach is down. Johnny Roach is down.
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Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 9:34 AM UTC
Johnny Roach
Johnny in the garden Cut his hair real close Now With the mower. Says he's got a fever, But you don't believe, Yeah, He's a liar. Spanish Inquisition Rocking through his heart It's Trying to find that Very special section Lets him love again. No, We can't have that. Let's drag him down. Shards of glass and pistols, Mirror in the face, We're Out of focus. Dart him in the eye. Dart him in the eye. Dart him in the eye. Johnny's in the attic, Hanging by a bulb. He's Left the light on. Music's running over Running out of time See How he's running. Let's tear him down. But we don't play that anymore. Johnny's got a different score. It's a song of roaches And cathedrals that he sings - An ode to ***** scatterings. A white ribbon on his right middle finger. Cigarette in limbo, Space between the ears. Dust: Mite-specific. Books of strings and theories Numbers on the shelf Un- Finished papers. He's so fine. He's so fine. He's such a Passionate disposer, Decomposing you. So Decomposing. Let's yank him down. Johnny, in the innards. Lot of help, those ribs. How Much protection? Never in a million Needle in the hay One Into many. Brother John is dying, Agonizing pain- Ful- Ly apparent. Choke, choke, choke. Dance, dance, dance. Chance, chance, chance. Johnny Roach is down. Johnny Roach is down.
©2010
Written by
nat-yonce
American
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 9:34 AM UTC
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