the mysteries of
life seem to defy explanation but I got the prickly answers festering in my ball sack it don’t take a psychic to chart my approach an electric horizon all fire and thunder crackles and spurts with them golden bullets the fruit of my loins
murder and mayhem lurk in my shadow so open the door just let me in I won’t be no bother or give me your cloak this is magical weather give me your cloak and I’ll cast you a spell
this poor boy gets all ego inflated and is counter-indicated for most applications I’m
good for a laugh but don’t
ask for directions my bipolar co-ordinates mean I’m lost and found in repetitive cycles
however due
to the unique way my head is
located I get to harmonise with those dissonant values that tie other people in gordian knots this heavy soul walks on many waters a
friend to all men but master of none
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