High Noon

I go to Greggs every lunchtime with some of my fat friends,
but I don’t buy their crap cakes, I just stock up on napkins,
the fact is I’m black-listed trying to make a living,
with my back twisted from sitting in the same damn position,
listening to the livid spilling guts on the telephone
I tell them ”hell is in the mind, and the heart is home,
heaven’s my reflection, I see angels in the architecture,
the texture of my arms, my sweaty palms and my complexion”,
no connection, just a dial tone on the other line,
I’ll bare my tangled insides only if you give me time,
but money changes hands, turning fingers into useless digits,
mangled in the factories, I’ve been a ghost in this machine,
I’ve been stricken sick with this disease,
and walked these halls deprived of sleep,
I start the day the way I mean to go on,
I drag my lead bones from the bedclothes,
honouring my headphones with the death song,
lord knows I speak no evil,
I breathe in silence and see through plastic people,
caught in the crossfire by a nail gun in the mail man’s hand,
I play numb in the vein and hope someone understands,
I keep these rubber bands cos they’re crucial to my cunning plan,
the motherland is calling me, but I suspect they run a scam,
to siphon off my hard earned pennies,
I’ve heard many tales like this,
the salesman’s pitch, the business lingo,
going loco in the alcove,
outgoing mail, uncharacteristic,
natural misfit, growing in despair,
this air is too thick to breathe,
we’re too quick to breed,
and too slow to learn to love.