Eleven - Forward Russia

Quit making faces at the one I love

These errant tightropes that you’re thinking of

Can’t be undone the instant that they’re set

Above this scorched and torrid hallowed ground or

So they say (in the city)

So they say (in the sea)

Set your watch (round the corner)

While they bleed

I heard a rumour that you lost your job

Was it just hearsay or of factual ground?

This tightrope’s set up, there’s no going back

To sepiata and the plastic surgeons with (?)

Pineapple cones bleaching your bones

Pineapple cones bleaching your bones

Pineapple cones…

They came on the crest of a wave

The cusp of equinox today

This pillar of sleep orbited

By thousands of delicate thoughts

These satellites fleeced at the door

Comprised of the reason of years

As life flashes fitfully down

This spirit so fitfully drowns

A signal is sent from the core

To bring all the satellites home

Home, home…

A quart of the … still remains (?)

Tsunami that rip at the skin (?)

Anonymous wrenches of blame

A great tidal wave

Over the house on the hill

The snakes are all burdened with lead

Plumbum dementia for them

Just don’t forget