I’d like to shoot my city, and place a god in the dump of it
With a broken neck to classify my signature
Beneath the harvest moon.

I can finally itch, again, the crack across my skull.

The eyes, lips, and blood of it all entice me-
An embryo for destruction.

I was a super star,
I lived in the city lights,
I idoled my Buddhist charm.

Lights in the city.

The neck of a crane I bite down on,
Giving me the dog-like appearance,
Is all I need to be a fascination
Underneath the tall, tall, city lights.

In the city where I ache,
I cannot suffer through my happiness.
I scrape my face with terrycloth,
Cardboard, every night.

And I did know…
I Ache it on my own;
And me just being is blasphemous.

I need more instruction on how to live politely

whoah oh this piece i like it alot

"In the city where I ache,
I cannot suffer through my happiness.
I scrape my face with terrycloth,
Cardboard, every night.

And I did know…
I Ache it on my own;
And me just being is blasphemous."

that part i really like and it flows nicely from beggining to end great work

thanks ya