Back On Your Knees

Born of, reared by intuition
Driving down a highway of pretty collisions
Led to sticking by familiar confusions
Souls the color of fresh contusions
Dreaming of in bed with the stale piss futures
Of a thousand lonely drunk tank veteran recluses
Bored by cooked in shiny Grafix Brand bongs
Where the wisdom reads like Thomas Pynchon

What nourishes destroys all the pretty boys

Led to, fed by countless confusions
Tripping downtown with all the failed muses
Leapt in, fell on dark days indeed
Scraping black resin with the Fairbanks troll king
Robbed of, raped by my teenage scream queen
Living in a pair of greasy blue jeans
Slobbered on, fobbed upon inane ideas
Just keep your head up until you’re back on your knees

What nourishes destroys all the pretty boys

The spider in the jar died just like a rock star
gasping for air while all the kids sat and stared

Preyed upon a slave to the pop culture beast
Dying of hunger in a pair of Nikes
Copped a dropped a catalogue of tricks
Written by Rasputin on LSD
Felt up swallowed by a minor Rashneesh
The Bogwon guards my spot beneath your sheets
Wriggled out of ran out of inane ideas
Just keep your head up until you’re back on your knees

What nourishes destroys all the pretty boys

 

 

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