Boxing About - Robert Pollard

The flower of your madman

May start to grow

In your heart

It’s been in you not confident

But in the naked city

I spot it in the dark

Whore memories have taken

The vaccinations from your box

From pockets of no stoppage

The madness of the factories

The spacing of the rocks

I need my defiance

Your prayer, come on sing it to me

The tower of your madness

Why, it makes me die

Many style is blues

Everything is what we may lose

Your innocence is pale

Standing to my hammer and nail

So drive, not drive

Just nail it, not paying too mind

The time, not times

No ceiling, no walls or deadlines

To find, not find

I’m failing to keep you inside

But I’m getting much better

I’m getting much better