Down

I’ll be there

When they’re not

And even when they are

I’ll be a step ahead

Sleeping comes voluntarily

And it explains the bad moods

But also these words

And the strength that comes with them

Carries me into the morning

Mourning, mourning go the wanderers

Fuck me, fuck me, go the slumberers

Not my President, scream the deadly fevers

They’re all so terribly wrong

And in their loudness lose their luster

Seen as no more than clanging gongs

That will soon be cut down

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