all black mission

I give it up
hanging it up on the hook,
on my tounge.

I smoke silverish things
from a golden bong,
and eat rice crackers,
waiting for death
sitting in cabs
and driving all night through town
to find nothing but a not existing reason
to exist.

so we consist, they say.
There is no sence,
and there never was.
I pause in a fall back position,
it’s called the all black mission…


and my visions are clear but loose
and i snooze and frown a bit
with a crown on my eye lid
good bye, syd, i say,
good bye.

it has at least been a premium high,
a genius waiting in the sky
for us with a big brown book
throwing energy,
they say.

But do we really wonder?
Do we care?
Do you dare?

when the snare’s tight
i’ll be hanging there
in the misty night.

I kill my time all the time
untill it’s darker than black
and I cast my pearls before swine
with the sap in the sack.