Omnipotent flesh and

Faulty chet hand

Guns across the sea

My favourite pair of shackles

My only way out of the bag

Seven tons of ugly thunder

Patter of the mechanical souls

Claim the loudest crime

Pangs of moldy guilt still stab me in the chest

Suffering is the first step towards happiness

Chock full of expensive medicine

Pitch the idea like a tent

Slowly exhale and begin again

The only bed I’ve had were nails

You try to talk but all I hear is bleating