You were not a weather-fend
Still, I followed your course
Then, we reached a dead-end
Where all feelings got hoarse

My mouth’s speaking
Doesn’t mean a thing
Unless the said is heard
Loud and clear by a third

Stay in the hood
Safe and secure
A potential good
Will be obscured

Got wasted
Fell on the sun
****-naked
It wasn’t fun

More than tipsy
On a balloon
Saw the gypsy
Crashed the moon

Dipped his feet
In a crater lake
Non-stop drumbeat
Heavy headache

Before him, parked
Was witches-broom
The day was marked
By magic mushroom

Furious lions are fighting
Somewhere in the high
Tear and sweat are pouring
From the fractured sky

You can overlook men’s bones
Most are spineless testosterones