By Torpedo Or Chron's

sleeping late i hear the sad horns
of labor [bad word] sigh
my neighbor walks by
high heels click dry
like half a proud horse downbrook
i hear somebody's babbling i mistook
for a cavalry whispering victory
to the sparks in their kindling
but but all their green wood's wet and unmet
as of yet by the gases of flame
pressing again the pending physics
of my passed down last name
living in the tier between two spaces condemned
in one of the many places
you're not i am
hiding from my friends in the bathroom at thrift town
to write this tune down.

(just doesn't stop)

today after lunch i got sick and blew chunks
all over my new shoes in the lot behind whole foods
this is a new kind of blues and what about losing
the more loved one in a duel dissatisfies you or seems just
as a kid i did not [bad word] my pants much,
why start now with this stuff
and man i do not bluff
second caller gets bit by a dog or jeff dahmer
kisses of stitches no mitt for these pitches
lone pone one master of the cheap pun,
if i'm not raw i'm just a bit underdone
but i'd be okay cool as a rail
if they just let us have health food in [bad word] 
good heavens background radiation
and the black arts awaiting
not the same since i
switched my hair part and started shaving
got hacksed my hidden hair gone corners
oh i'll never be a joiner
life long local foreigner i
raw lung homegrown faking co-ed naked choir
second tenor highest riser blessed [bad word] i'll be proudly mouthing watermelon every song
i put the phone to my ear
but all's i hears a dial tone
will they map my skull and wrap my bones
when my wig is gone hmmm
i'll go unknown by torpedo or crohns
only those evil live to see
their own likeness in stone
my brother said that

i can decide
while i'm alive i'll feel alive
and what's next
i guess i'll know when i've gotten there