A Song Dedicated to the Memory of Stormy the Rabbit

For four fortnights I have fled from my fortress
Foraging forests five footsteps in length
Fortitude found within forty ounce bottles
Flowing like flies from your face
From your face
And my neighborhood
It’s been filled brim with black cats
And when I go driving they walk in my path all the time
Every time
First we were babies, we’re birthing and dying
Then we were children, we’re playing and crying
And then we’re teenagers and smoking and fucking
But now we’re all grown up and we’re sadly sighing
And liking, mud larking, and licking our wounds
We’ve created by lusting and lying to ourselves and to others
We’re sadly sighing
We’re sadly sighing
We’re sadly sighing
We’re sadly sighing
And I’d like to be a big ball of meat
That bees can buzz around and eat when I die
So that I might be granted one sense of purpose