Ecstasy

No more self! No more self! Sell the angel, burn the pig, and raise through hell!
We’ve delicious berries, pumpkin pie too.
A fine mix of ingredients, will lend itself well.

Hamlet was old.
Your mother is gold.
These are words that mean nothing,
Don’t tell me or scold!

Tell me or scold!
I’ll always tell my parents.
Because then my parents, will be likely to scold!

What else would I do?
I return what I receive

And everyone’s a fool
who doesn’t know…

No more self! No more self! Sell the angel, burn the pig, and raise through hell!
I hold nothing in my mind.
For if I did it would collapse.

So when other asks me who I am
I just point up to the sky.

But God’s up there!
And then they smile and they laugh.

For myself is a wish
and facades always lead to a good Mrs.

The kind that leaves the bed smelling like berries
She’s a fine mix of ingredients, and lends herself well.

So sell the angel, burn the pig, we’re all too late to find ourselves.

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