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CISCO KID'S IN GAOL SHAMIN' YOUR NAME ON THE BORDER Poncho, amigo, it's all over for the ones who thought that this was a land of the Lefty
It's actually the bond of bullet fire on the planet, the canyons & woods, you got milk
Where it's all at, not because that's your will or your relatives or your unfriendly ilk
They're never around when chips are down & you need some back cover, key of G.
By the names and signs you've been trained to respond to or not, unholy survival awaits
Your ending is all that's important to the universe, not your origin from love or lust lays
If the Earth is engulfed into the split atoms of the nuclear exchange, fortune's end of US
Survival after the man-monkey-made weapons go off is impossible unless you're a virus.
Dirty dogs I've cleaned and BBQ'd because all of the grocery stores & 7-11's are shutdown
Nothing to eat but dogs, cats & one another which we don't do, we're not cannibals' grunts
Why are you looking at me like that? I'm not a hamburger steak that needs some mustard
You're not a roundsteak or a T-bone waitin' for my teeth and belly to turn it to the scaturd.
Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who each had a dream, then they died
It was over at the last breath, the last blink, the last thought which was like, "Oh My GOD!"
Awful to see the terrible thing that created the Space & Time we call here and now, I lied
Telling the Truth was never any worry of mine, if I repeat words, a true lie of the Big Guy!
I've had a problem with recognition of my limitations on the causes of special effects I am
Just a form of bent ultraviolet and infrared light refused from the origin of the flame, a sun
Close star just far enough away from us to be dangerous in the water, you get burned at sea
Nothing to cover your skin and bones when the face to face with the creator returns to thee.
Volumes of wisdom's words bled onto dead tree pulp, for a hot tip to be grateful when dead
On a rainbow after the rain storm or down below the Mason-Dixon line in a sandman's head
A dream within a dream ad infinitum produces the schizophrenic-paranoia that's easy to see
Olfactory tastes, nonsense sensors of sensory perception's recording of a fiction, a saga scree.
Destitute afterbirth, your country leaders are shams & are the followers to the deep end of it
Where all of the refused red, white & blue trash goes into the Fountain of Immortality bulls#it
Compared to hopeless, athiest philosophers, the innocent & the wild are humanity's last hope
Keep it on K Street 'cause the E-Street shuffle is still goin' on near the boardwalk, blown dope.
You and I are finite beings, get a load of that, bring it on home to your deepest, inner glimmer
Hope is all you have until you die, then it's all over, it's hopeless after that, only humans hope
Faith is blind & the Love you give is the the Love you get back to One, a true Self's unholy Man
So, notions of subjects, predicates & objects come & go, you're here waitin' on Mr. Sandman.
Let's ride over the border where all of the action is, Laredo to Fargo, we'll spread far and wide
You won't see the blend unless you're psychic, DNA bodies have 208 bones, faces & some hair
On the money when Time Is Money, all On Time and it is indeed, a sucker punch in the mouth
Two for the Show, Three to Get Reaty & Four, well you know, Time's out, Spaced out, I'm out.
Paper routes completed for the money, conscription for the money, time & labor for the cash
In the end, you owe it or you don't, either way you go & find out what's in store for the bash
Party is either here or somewhere else, I'll find it if I've got the wherewithall, if not, my amigo
Afraid it's curtains, my friend, desperado, I'm thinking it can't be, mi WAR Cisco Kid & Poncho.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Mercredi, April VIth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 1111 AMPST
{ Crafted while jammin' to @TheDramatics #WhatchaSeeIsWhatchaGet on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/PgG6SU8L-dI }
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