The Pseudo Science of Sheep
Sent down to the lagoon drinking fountain
laid to rest at the echo pass over
brilliant amounts of energy wasted
picking out a costume instead of using someone else's skin
A million days they've tasted
blood
in their mouths
on their cheeks
An idea's not an idiots dream until it's tangled with the weak
the run dry lovers of stupendous languages fall to their feet
Please pick your mouth up, it's drooping
The sign in the sky was written for the one's in awe
can't imagine what they saw
maybe a dinged up laviathon pregnant with fashion sense
maybe nothing at all
Copyright © Martin Graham | Year Posted 2010
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