In the door of faken light
A vacant house on the corner
Ready for demolition.
The air around it:
Choking, conniving, crabby!
The truth on form
The relations on done.
The captain on the corner
Letting out a mangled laugh
Through rotten teeth
Does the sea give forth its relief!
Oh poor sea!
I'd sooner see darkness
Then have your spokesman
As my own!
He and his house
Are but the elephant in all rooms
Avoiding the address one by one
While they eat your chips!
What great misery the bring!
The ruin of parties!
How'd I'd rather see darkness!
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