The blood running down
The goosebumps: they fill the only void between space and all time
Lost in the backlash of over indulging
Slept on the wrong side again
Fuck, it’s the same in the end
The blood running down
The last breath holding the starlight deep beneath layers
Forever mourning the weakened desire
Forgotten by the squires
Prophesying all that doesn’t. Really. Matter.
The blood running down
The spreadsheets turning circles on masters and wizards
Poisoning the spells with lurches and makeshift cosmopolitans
Dressed up to please the ever indulging normality
Spiced with dreams of circle jerks
The blood running down
The only occasion left on this moonlit sonata passed these steps long ago
Streaking stains hid by the scared bits of light creeping in closer
But I’ve lost hope of these clever bits
My eyes grow weary, zip goes the bag
And there’s blood running down