I am not a chicken Cumshots, random Fleeting tidbit of justification Must write them down Before the final bulb burns out Scribbled, confused Kneel down before high priest of patronization He bleeds of truce and privlage Billows from his snout How mighty, how utterly beautiful The motions a nonchlant charade Im tiny, so swimmingly i stumble March to the dumbs of bananas on parade Chill out, toke up Expect the unexpectable waning Of siple centricity That things remain the same Amtrah incubaton on the unmaintainable maintaining The hurt clings to me bits of glitter, adorned i came Model train set, im at the epicanter Flag down conductor and dose his lemondae In this armchair, i eat my shit for supper Succumb to quiet, the bananas on parade