mars

[Manslick]

i cant get a hold of myself
i seem to be a whiff
no place is calm
no glassy sea i see

i tried to hold the lute
it came up mute
my nose congested
i need to go to bed

Fuck That!

while i suck air
i will not dispair
though creeping ends do call me
i can not mute my scent

for all my might
for all my height
they know i am haughty sauce
skip a beat and i am meat
the bugs dont go to sleep

so i will beat my drums
so loud it all turns to crumbs
walls around me
a horrid sound i will dispatch
a holy fire will boil the blood
of the lowest form of life
and free it all from all the strife
till all is rife like mars

mars, i want the scars you wear like a debutante
you are in the news like a sauce that soothes
a wanting world so green
would give you nothing new