Sardonic

Eyes like the bubonic plague

With hook-nosed, crow-masked faces.

Doctor, Doctor!

I’m sick, I need a ‘copter.

Fly me away

From the swamps and decay

I can’t stay ‘cause I’ll fade

Like I need a holiday

From this way of living

From this way of thinking

From this smoggy pestilence of petulance

Poison in my brain like rot in a fence and

There’s no defence from this intense incense of incensed past tense events this is my recompense

I’m trapped,

I’m drowning,

Into the hospital pillows

I’m howling

Anxiety at my throat

Feels like an army at the mote

Of my ego

That I keep in the keep

With the rest of my momentos

Memories with coke and mentos

And all the games

No need for dames

No heart on the line

But then I went and lost my innocence

And after that, my trust, confidence, self-assured competence…

I threw it all away on a game I should not play.

I fucked around, caught a cold, and got my heart puréed.

I took a tumble like ol’ Humpty Dumpty’s famous fumble

And none of the king’s doctors,

And none of the king’s men

Can ever put me back together again.