Nine-twenty-seven a.M., seven/twenty nine
Anyone listening want a brain washed like mine?
Jackal (in the sheep flock):
Shadow on the vine!
Honey (from the cleft rock):
Better luck next time
Lock jawed glass rat, Psalter seventeen
W/ functional addiction to altars of the May Queen
Half clear ghost [name chemical] appears
In the hollow of a cow's horn buried in a grainfield
(As that wondrous hour draws near)
One day they'll find us
Feathers on a tiger's body
Quiet as a clear blue glacier lake
Ploughshares gone swords, we were the scourge of the earth
Offerings unpoured, unliturgical drink
It'd be a pearl of a time now for a virgin birth
& It happens more often than you might think
9:28 a.M., low in the phosphorous lights
Of lonesome days & parthenogenetic nights
You became the glowing letters of a red sign:
"Better LUCK NEXT TIME"
Better luck next time