Centrifuge
A Colour Cold Black
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On the meridian of time
There is no injustice
There is only the poetry of motion
Creating the illusion of truth and drama
At 23 I feel like burning
At half mast my flag within time
All of you crap you keep on turning
At half mast my flag within time
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Osmosis there still is
And here and there articulation
But at the periphery the veins are varicose
And the sun bleeds like a broken rectum
At 23 I feel like burning
At half mast my flag within time
All of you crap you keep on turning
At half mast my flag within time
And the light waves bend
At 23 I feel like burning
At half mast my flag within time
All of you crap you keep on turning
At half mast my flag within time