Angrezi

straddling barstools in an unkown room
spilling whiskey down my trowsers
into a lousy spitoon, too young to be this soused
while lies fade into another room...
leaving me out of earshot of their conspiracies,
pitting my uncertainty of strength
against a gang of cloaked cowards in devil masks
Slandering life itself!

Here we go again,
Here we go again,

said a tired salty self still too young, while a roach
climbed to drown in my drink, for me.
It's cheaper than human sacrifice.

I can not follow, where is this strangerland?
'cause my body keeps eating my muscle to survive...
I'm afraid it's all the strength I have left. In the death zone.
Who calls me from this ouija board of germane astrology
where the only real untruths rot and fester
in that other room; just out of earshot, sometimes not,
planned for me after I was kicked out of holy womb.

Since I was old enough to climb a bar stool,

There I go again,
There I go again,

Into the drink of seething froth
paid for from that other room.
Cheers laddies!
to that darker side as I moon, humor is my toungue
liquid courage proffered
to the sage next to me straddling his deep, dark spitoon--
it's meant for them
in another time, another lie, another room.
Was I a citizen of our Rome, burning,
imprisoned in this tomb?

We both raise a toast, discerning whom,
alien bloodbrothers trapped in this strange bed we must lie
drink of truth we must endeavor to write
on bathroom walls,
only the janitor's are listening, while frustratedly
cleaning the walls