cereal and choccy milk!?

“Repeating with dead variables
A heat concieved by counting things
With nowhere to send it
I’m writing a pathetic soliloquy

Horror you’d almost mistake as an electric shock
Mixes into my veins
Beyond the thick smoke of fine particles
A black chain-sickle is following me

Even if I delete it— even if I delete it— even if I delete it—
Even if I delete it— even if I delete it— even if I delete it—
Even if I delete it— even if I delete it, it doesn’t go away
My voice had been lost long ago
By then the shouted sounds had failed to line up
Sitting in an easy chair,
The rotten-down crescent moon is smiling
Already,
Just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner—
Just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner,
Something is approaching me

The people who set fire on the banner of salvation
After wailing loudly
And a skeleton meekly shutting itself in a coffin
As it kisses the collection^[1]
Again,
‘Something’s wrong— something’s wrong— something’s wrong— something’s wrong—
Something’s wrong— something’s wrong— something’s wrong— something’s wrong—’
They whispered

If there were a utopia
Where everyone could be saved for eternity—
The boat the adults went on board saying this
Has exploded
The black star— the black star— the black star— the black star—
The black star— the black star— the black star— the black star
Is looking at them

The wailing flash stabs me in the eyes
A parting bell rings
The answer linked by the history
That God has created tastes like sand
Repeating with dead variables
A heat concieved by counting things
I am inquiring the star
That has the color of someone’s sparkling eyes

The sadness that becomes too much to pick up
Eventually runs down and turns to salt
Prayers,
Suffering,
Compassion,
And even pity
Will soon be priced

Right now, even if I turn away—
Even if I turn away— even if I turn away— even if I turn away—
Even if I turn away— even if I turn away— even if I turn away— even if I turn away,
I hear the screams loud and clear

The fish who reasons that
Letting go of happiness is true aesthetic
Swims in a sea of self-consciousness
The smell of runoff blood lingers

The black star— the black star— the black star— the black star—
The black star— the black star— the black star— the black star
Is looking at me

Repeating with dead variables
A heat concieved by counting things
With nowhere to send it
I’m writing a pathetic soliloquy

The crying cells return to the sea
Gray clouds are approaching
As if to trace a swallow’s trajectory
That grumbling nonsense clings onto

Praying for tomorrow with a braided glory,
My hands are dirty with hope
I am inquiring the star
That has the color of your sparkling eyes

If we could hold hands
And love each other
We kill the dreams that didn’t come true in the end
The ruined remains of thought
In the center of it all, a thermal anomaly is occuring

This can’t be real—
Such a thing—
This can’t be real—
Such a thing—
This can’t be real—
Such a thing—
This can’t be real—
Such a thing—
I can’t bear it

My voice had been lost long ago
By then the shouted sounds had failed to line up
Sitting in an easy chair,
The rotten-down crescent moon is smiling
Already,
Just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner—
Just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner— just around the corner,
Something is approaching me”