It's an angry sky at seven O' clock,

Under the sun of the acid grey so stop…

And solidify…

The stagnant eye;

And look to the mirror for her only pleasure…

I watch fat angles on the Icarus-bound.

Picked the corpse off the floor,

where happiness drowned.

Dance,

blue druid;

she tricks without treats-

Catch joy in your torture and the holes in your feet.