Moving Mouths

You can't you can’t you can’t
Treat me like this
Wicked and winged rubbing my eyes
There’s no limit to what a mind can absorb
A pounding, pulsating anger that is no longer humyn
Glorified dawn, I spit in your face
Come at me, try and eat your most precious host
Give me the soul of a giver, teacher-preacher
My roses will bloom where the tide touches the sky