In rye, I ride bourbon highs Fateful lies to urban guys in hopes Of debt fueled eyes pinned on me Gin on me? Oh, ecstasy. Nothing less. To set you free Gleam and teem obedience which pressed A pensive liberty festered and incensed Fueled with hate Cherry pooling curdled at your lack I exchange Jameson for Jack, In pain, I mourn abhorred my loss of safety in path through this fermented Alleyway, In shadowless parks harkened to darkness i see your gallows and the heart of your malt lips In hate I mourn in sordid horror to declare I’m a cirrhosis whore Oh Mark, I follow you through porno orchards Screams crunch and echo beneath former form In crisis, borne out of whisky icies In a pitiful hypothetical Hell calls forth He’ll burst north Through the bark of trees and salt of the earth hung, limping, and hypnotically swung Creating for bloodied Birds who screech on south a Death which leaves them mourning horny for more Causing them to embark towards foreign lands In search of laborious gore so I could’ve Made it to the morning with glassy mark by my hand. Hypnagogic coffin worthless proverbs with poverty preferred