(Unnatural Sunday)

Blue hair, blue eyes -you're so sweet you make me cry
Like the most unnatural bubblegum you can find
Chewed during church on any day but an actual Sunday
Because the only sin that's left is the sin of conformity
A biased and unachievable achievement given only to those who try for the anti-
Never to you you drawling saint of self-righteous security
Sucking down cigarettes at the same rapid pace an over-experienced
Smoker might use in their dependence on their oxygen contraption
A bitter-sweet mechanism of prolonged boulevard crawling
An extension to the act of all-consuming need for a reason of existing
An unfindable thing unless maybe if you're high
Even then you've always forgotten by the time you come to
Evidently you know nothing without your elevated senses
And a lot of good that'll do you in
The exaggerated depth of a street gutter somewhere along the border of Fifth and Mine
Fending off the pickpocketers who so politely stand in patient lines
Waiting for your surrender or perhaps for you to die
Chewing their tongues and their traditions for the sake of respect
An indifferent and indecisive commitment to you and their personal regret
At inhumanely targeting endangered species in a way
That disallows them the ability to turn back
Because they could never let live the unique flavor that
Invades their mouths and their eyes
Such intricate tastes are too sweet and make them cry