#ricoSacto

Sunday, February 05, 2023

LOATHING AND TREMBLING ONTO RIGOR MORTIS ad infinitum, ETC, ETC, ETC

'
 

ICED ARK STRAIT-E-JACKET SEED

Used to cry about the humble pie ‘til i put me in cracker’s dorm
With humble pie crumbs. Cake to be or not to be matter & form
Don’t blame me for the narrow way, i was lonely on the make
Lost on all back roads of the highway, a covenant arc head fake.

Flew so high and got so far away, there’s no tellin’ I’m dreamin’
I didn’t know where to land it, they said a god was a mortal sin
So, i got my small conscious soul in touch with the original buck
Ma and pa all did what they could with this natural man’s suck

When it’s over, it’s over, believe me or don’t, it'll cool your jets
I ain’t the one who saved you from Armageddon, fools’ debts
I know when iron curtains are comin’ down for a finale encores
Trials & tribulations until breakin’ bad seals to holy dam doors.

Garbage of the black and white trash piled up for rats to buy
Just the crumbs of the trailer’s trash in three stories of ‘i die’
Spread out and hover over the nonsense, beer bongs and wine
Burned brains, cadaver minds, subjective objects of a stop sign.

Everything's gonna be alright, there’s nothing else we can do
To make it through the days & nights to bitter ends of eggs, bro
Fertilized and gestated right into a coffin, a casket of skin & bone
All there ever was and will be, same day, same scat, we’re all alone.

As above in deeper neon space outside a milky way, gods roam laid
Everywhere always, every momentary breath you take, move made
Inside mother’s womb or ordered to ‘go to your room’ as if it’s bad
Lucky to have loved, just to see what it’s like when god dies, sad.

Mama & pa would've been so proud to have been the Origin's spawn
Spewed offspring with reason, rationale of a philosophers’ dawn
I blame nobody, noone for any thought i have escape my mouth
What my pops said, to shut my pie hole down, embarrassed south.

Ran off to Texas, saw Davey Crockett’s last Alamo stand blast
Triggered recollection of getting’ wound alas, lead's steel, funkiness
Champion of getting’ out alive at the end, good, bad & ugly
You know the last word's gotta be a final curtain, gasp, it's funky!

by

rjjstephan, i
c. Dimanche, February Vth, MMXXIII @ 311 AMPST
{ Jammed out with @VanMorrison #SometimesWeCry link @ https://youtu.be/LqkrGPEdt34 }


F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?

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