This Is Exposed

I’m macho I’m femme call me they call me them
Bikini boys in the summer scum want nothing and you and scene
Thought rats scurry over hypnosis or what’s left of the friend chat
The scents of killers the Eyes Of Mars the seven blood gangs of the parietal
I’m liminal I’m free call me he call me she
I said I’m macho I’m femme call me they call me them
In this place one way or another you’re gonna get radicalized
Oh but my lives they’re unreal those things are only a spectacle
Thorns are cool thorns save lives thorns get me into trouble but I always
survive
In a circle of one sounding a drum to a bodysong what can I say it’s gonna
happen either way
Like a Burroughs to Capote curse written in a rabid free verse
If you fellate the crown’s prick you run afoul of the Syndicate
Smart kids say no disabusing crow drones what could they possibly glean out of
a liar’s mind?
Thorns are cool thorns save lives thorns get me into trouble but I always
survive
Still it’s not a lot of fun dealing with truscum in a circle of one and a
bodysong
What can I say it’s gonna happen either way
Now you got no brain how do you get fucked up? what?
Now you got no brain how do you get fucked up?