Death Major - 13 & God

You can’t take the eat out of death

That spelling is fixed, sure as day on the skeleton sets

Both are forever at your neck

It’s a

It’s an eat on us

Then will they so simply slip you, they

To the improved mutes and slave stakes in the king’s bed

Left only waged your once infant neck half-hugging the work blade’s one way

embrace (release death)

Your head lead off into that last capture

And then replanted in the bed of upper class laughter

Where in it is never picked nor tended to

Only left to a decade of death uneven under dispersed last slay of all seasons

And you (you are singular)

Yet in you still, all day has resulted

And you (you are singular)

It’s perhaps pride of all pulses

Yet (you are singular) (you are singular)

Yet you (you are singular)

Yet you get no god to guard your back against the maggots loose

You got no one ape

You owe all that bone structure too

Your weather moulded evolved your meaning of life long divided by day is to die

soft

This means

This means terrible things to those who cherish their bed

Who think in flames

Safe in their beliefs (the led) that no river ever ends

That the sun and moon are simply miscommon in the dark and light crossed honest

For they give you no pain

Big sleep will certainly cure you of this gift

In it’s body ridden brutal business

To what’s motherlessness

Or to be bent born at all

A belly set flame

Top the genetic tinder

A surname born and burned in doubts adjoining

And over from egg

Into evening day

Disappointment

Locking arms across and ending definite

Like opening a jar full of weather

This will only work once

(you are)

Only only once

Only only once

(you are)

Only only once

(you you you you are)

Only only only once

(you you are singular)

When single odds at the wall like border lines reproduce not to go for go made

to change to reduced you forgetting its pulse and all you a hard wood otherwise

speechless

Or perhaps they would like to promise to feed them

T-t-t-took the time to break cops code and meet them at the full on all your

yoke

You wouldn’t do you good to be that good help when doctors disprove about

yourself

To never recall at all that the fetus did name your penis in fame

Solve the little path to your whooping luck d-d-did t-t-to have that heart

attack

So you don’t never did see burst in sun light did where

Winter blows your windows shut

You see lies you live

All one wants is to be missed

To throw no flag

But see all American punches, posing and poetry

Don’t regret to rep your car wreck

Throwing up at the teething everything of death

I have nothing to give you but these days

I am broken stone that’ll waste nor death

Teeth behind kisses

Nothing rhymes with death