you paint your own tv on the wall   carve out insects to feed us all   lights ash by and the fast world echoes your thoughts      your compass led you to the edge of a lake   you’ll singe your nuts down there if you take   such bad advice from the love gods of hate   you’ll get cold      you get burned, you get cold      on the plush green rug in the lime green light   eyes like white stones in black light   i promise you everything that you like      i go “mississippi kite”      gloss assails us then dims   comic book nights, la grim   the hollywood martians, lucky stiffs, fucking win      you told me enough times you can’t give me enough rope   to hang myself one time, but I can always hope   you come down on me so hard that I choke and go      you get burned, you get cold      meanwhile, I feed you boric acid and air   lemon drops, snow cream, speckled eggs   the sweat seeps in through a crack in your head      you go “mississippi kite”