There's a razor in my gut
That, when I swallow
Stitches age into my
Esophagus
A seagull dying in my bedroom
That keeps me up at night
I’ve swallowed several vitamins
To keep me wise
A shedding cat stretched across my lover's couch
A shedding cat stretched across my lover's couch
Ooo
My sharp, sweet stomach
Which, in its wisdom
Swallowed the razor
In vital beat forgets infection
Of the dirty bird:
Its filthy wings
The clumps of gris
And tatters as they flit
[guitar solo]
Tufts of fur in my mouth
Like a gross vegetable wig
Wrap around my tonsils and sing
Not my words, not my song;
Too sharp, too sweet
And certainly not wise
Did I shave this?
Is the razor at fault
My fault?
Is it different from the
Screechеs of the struggling gull
Down there that nеver speaks?
Down there that never, ever speaks?
A loop of words completely unheard
The bird is unfound
And wholly absurd