they just walk in they won’t just leave you alone they walk at you, all doggy style come at you like you're the contention bone you reach for the nine-one-one phone and they all ‘broken bad’ gomer pyle but it ain’t no ‘golly’ in their tone don’t even pretend they the messiah eskimo Quinn that Dylan told us we were all waiting for no, this ain’t no off-Broadway Brecht primal scream naw, cause you be bleeding from sharkie’s teef they come at you all Jimmy Piersall baseball team nothing ever was or ever will be what it be to seem O lawd, it’s the enforcers from the bleached white algo reef all crazy-like, headpieces not of straw but of sibilant steam O sweet Revelations Jesus help us! Cawwwwwwwww!
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