Turn on all the light and punch them out.
All four burners going, pile it on fire.
Metal sparks in the nuclear box.
Fist through a window pane and our
broken coffee cups litter the kitchen floor.
Smoke rolling across the ceiling s**
down the bride's champagne and swallow
a few more sleepy ones.
Pa** the bottle to none and swing from the gate.
Speak in the name of suffering as loud as it gets.
Knuckled holes in everything spittle
and love fling into a crying eye that runs away.
A dead dog in the street nothing brings a slain king back.
You'll never know the bittersweet smell
of leaving this world of your own volition.
So jacked up.