What the iced have eyes
Can hear but aren't here.
Wounds you can mend but not hatred
Wound around one manned
By a virtual virtue: smell vengeance.
The seas cease
Where the wall's low and
The swallow meets its end.
Rounds penetrate the parts
Round the heart.
Fired, justified just by jealousy.
The rigged rig,
While machines mar shins,
The worker worked the work;
Die-cast metal dig into flesh - they
Die in a flash!
Been crushed by the capitalist cunt.
Maybe i'm just depressed.
