Pyrite & Gold
Poor Bailey
Last I heard from Selma,
your coffin caved in.
Drussella was pregnant
with some dead dude's kid.
The whole town was swept away
in one last fatal flood.
A body of water, a river of blood.
Meaningful enough.
I'm heading for home.
Meaningful enough.
Like pyrite and gold.
Are you living the dream,
or are you sleeping it?
Blew through the roof,
Fell through the floor.
Actions speak louder
but words say more.
When you're fast asleep
in a slow dream.
Dressed in camo for all occasions.
Where the addicts live in basements.
Something wanders down the hall.
It's all I really needed.
May we all rise to fall.
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