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• Artiste: Moth Equals
• Titre: Sick Puppy
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Shut up and shut in, Dust puppy in dust bin, Presumed here only by provenance, No substance, no confidence, Drinking thick gloss waste matter by the eyeful, Taste battered, Tastes bitter, Tasted better glitter in reception era, My out of town company used to be nearer, Inspiration from frustration, my ear mouths do not litter, New needs new, spirit havoc from cabin fever, Here I fear a fear no clearer than the black I disappear in. A sick puppy grows Up to sick dog - knows The medicine goes in being More than I am until I am more than I am. I find some solace in the malice of those I meet, I find some solace under the yellow light of street, I don't mean to orbit danger like flies orbit meat, But the Earth is not my inheritance for I'm no longer of the meak, My only possessions of value are the words I think to speak, But I don't think before I speak, So my words are food I eat, Falling forward into fire, tight fists swirl the air higher, I wish upon a dead star that I'm the dealer not the buyer. What's this chill in the air? A sick puppy grows Up to sick dog - knows The medicine goes in being More than I am until I am more than I am.