Litter.

If you can’t stand the vent in around 

Angels citadel you could catch a cold 

Whilst waiting for a vision to take hold 

counting Flags and whistling to 

belles on the parade. 

it’s time to buy a magazine and litter 

Through a life that would you 

Bother fighting 


left alone I’d tell you to take a running bath 

With ice water or drink the forget me knots

You buy too wreath what you can’t take 

I Feed flys overloading there short term synapse

From a hooked and protracted nose watching 

The consciences streams leaving questions 

of oxygen On that we’re agree to disagree .