the tatters are flapping, pennants in the wind, my guts rotting like the dog you turn over, flesh writhing, my thoughts boil over and haze my mind, a misty dream of a man caught in a headlight beam but gone when I turn my head to see the message scrawled inside of me. I pace life with an empty head made lonely outside you or bed, filled only by the fluffy smoke that's favoured by we empty folk cos all else is an irrelevance, you the only permanence.
