Patrolling the underground realms
Lifting thought from prepared pages
Easing youth that won’t overwhelm
Knowing craft requires poise upon the stage
The dissidents lining streets in praise
While heroes grow cold, lying in state
Sharpen your pens lads, we rise by days
Attune your focus & we might outlive our fates
Feeling her sharp features essential Stretching perfection with a single greying hair Pulling the sweater tight on a provincial frame Opportunity sparse so go loaded for bear
Cold front blowing through for a bit The supplies stocked for our love is finite Outward appearances leave me shivering In a world such as this, I need something to ignite
The wolves are released & they’re ready to feed Blindly & ineffectually sharpening their teeth Salivating over the vision of this torn dress Apathy mixed with nothing but pain to bequeath
With the inmates running the asylum
The cavernous tunnels are cold & dank
It can be difficult to remember the faces
The ones who put you here, the ones to thank
But we’re not twiddling our thumbs at night
We’re sharpening our words for vengeful retort
You think we’re numbed & harmless fools
Our bunker: in the guise of a blanket fort