The pretty city but a witty criticaster
A glistening prism but listening ends in disaster
Immortals are still hurtable, your fountains are discerptible
Your corsage of stars burdens who you are
The carbon convulses as you glimpse a skirt tartan
There is a pulsing in that pompous meat-carton
& there is pride in rising high like alpine yeast
But kings tend to forget that a lion must feast
Pints are a pound
Staff parts the crowd
Four to the floor beats loud
My feet ache
"Please choose me" I silently scream
Desperately trying to prove my sincerity in an insincere world
Sight starts to cloud
The sticky ground seems so far down
Is there anybody else here?
Nobody else feels close to near
Or seems to be choking back tears
Or disclosing a ubiquitous fear
I make myself sick
My feet ache
Dig a stiletto into those who claim to care
They would know I’m lonesome if they were here
But they are there, distance a blessing to the selfish
Like the curse it is to me & everyone else selfless
They make me feel more lonely than when I am alone
& though this acrimony’s twinned with giving me a home
I would, to be honest, rather die than see another day
Life is not for me, I’d like to see if there’s another way
The enigmatic punk-rap duo of Justin Pearson (The Locust, Swing Kids) and hip-hop producer Luke Henshaw make their long-awaited return. Bandcamp New & Notable Mar 7, 2024