The way, in which I lived, so shall I die?
The sea salt washes up against rocks
and bleach the stones white
Like a genuine pearly stone. That when I knew
Someone was mourning a death.
The party was going strong
The doorbell rang. In that moment
Speak low, lean low
Turn down the tempo
A sudden death; another wealthy mortal man
Took his last breathe.
Did he pass the test?
Bending over and sniffing the coke
By the mountain load;
Cocaine scattered all over the desk. Money burnt
How you lived, so shall you die?
Why cry. That was your life.
He became the cocaine and
His mind became retarded
The salty breeze massages my scalp
As they soul jump into to the sea
longing to be cleanses
Speaking low, leaning low their noses
Are on fire: another lost soul
Bolivian marching powder
Drip, drip drops of blood
Vanish out to sea.
a different kind of philosophy
The Devil philosophy