You the run-in buzzkill
Won't stop
We cry for our sky
pollutant clouds,
Earth screams
as we the children tear her
The Plutonian forever
will blanket our dawns, our dusks;
Smother that natural twilite beauty.
Only Allen understood
only thing left is to lay
on the tracks meditative and trust
fates, the trinity
of cyclopic hags, trading
their eye, forever
two-thirds blind
I think they fucked up
Howl Father, for your true
path is lost, I'm sorry