Or maybe more like LSD or skunk
Because you smudge the makeup of my brain
Rip out my wires and join them up again
But make a bloody useless heap of junk:
You’re such a drug, and I’m afraid I’ve drunk
Too much, too often. And I’m quite insane -
A home to one huge, parasitic pain,
Which is your fucked-up anarchistic punk.
It’s less erotic than psychotic now.
You swagger round my head in bully boots
Not caring where you kick, or what a row
Your voices make. I have to kill your roots:
There isn’t any other way or how
I can escape those men in their white suits.
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