not my time to live yet
but when was my time to die?
were I thrown in here in irregular
patterns
floating the concrete jungle
on high
belting out love and disaster
growing richer in thought
but definitely poorer in spirit
but when was my time to die?
were I thrown in here in irregular
patterns
floating the concrete jungle
on high
belting out love and disaster
growing richer in thought
but definitely poorer in spirit
a ricochet
of fate
fat on strings and cumbia
African in summer
floating the train to nowhere
where tracks
end in dust
over the black soil soundscape
drowning, circling, meandering
just
like the Zambeziof fate
fat on strings and cumbia
African in summer
floating the train to nowhere
where tracks
end in dust
over the black soil soundscape
drowning, circling, meandering
just
at dawn
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