oh, my broken lamb, i worry when you cry. baby’s gonna fetch ya horses in the sky. though dead hands ring the garden and these are violent times. and violence brings more violence. and liars bring more lies.

we were born defeated, worried, tired, and scared. and monsters build mean robots launching rockets into the air. and the wealth of our nations fed on angel blood. and our cities shot with moneyed schemes, built on twigs and mud.

and our schools look like prisons and our prisons look like malls and downtown is just a sick parade where no one cares at all.

and our heroes all died crazy, broken, poor, or shot. let’s celebrate their tragedy and sanctify the loss and manifest the daydream like those who failed before and glorify our small attempts and hate ourselves no more.

blow words between this sucker’s teeth and bind these panicked hands. lose your heart like a ringing bell. please be well. please be well. please be well. please be well. please be well. please be well.

and all i true love is the light in my darling sister’s eyes.