Caterwauling choirs, cranberry with canned fizz bull doze sleeping giants across causeways
Emerald eyes rupture roots standing italic, shaking spears at any globe in orbit.
Teacups and tiaras take the biscuit when the silver spoon isn’t full of sugar.
Dunkers hold court but it’s a masquerade ball.
Play by rules you’ve retweeted.
We fall for the measurements kissing the ground hoping they’re others sizes.
A pound of flesh isn’t that expensive.
Have a heart! That’ll do
Won’t you chuckle, brothers?
We sigh into cyclones pedalling clouds to pander.
Ganja seems more sacred than the Ganges but its peace, love and respect right?
Let’s all hold hands please
But don’t touch me
Alright, if you must
Just don’t thrust into the dovetail.
We try to make the “would” work when what’s supposed to isn’t the bigger prism.
Expect folk to harmonise with our music even when the track is hidden.
Ask them to rock our world and never throw stones
Ask for granite provolone in chromosomes forgetting a skeletons just a mobile home full of flaws and cracked windows.
Playing scratched records hoping our set has some floor filling singles.
But what has the bigger ring to it?
Be who you are even if we disagree? OR tick every box until nobody breathes?