Lapochka

How long must I wait How long must I wait Till the mountains of avarice turn blue? How long must I wait How long must I wait Till the moleskin I pick becomes fused? The avulsion whims its spurs in the pinches of my earth The dust I kick of animus shatters Recorded on my reels of tape, the trauma stops my flow and in your suppression tastes sulfur Hear the children say How long must I wait How long must I wait Till the mountains of avarice turn blue? How long must I wait How long must I wait Till the moleskin I pick becomes fused? As suddenly your avalanche reverses my polarity And secretly come Sunday morning standing at the pulpit to an empty room Hear the children say Tear of mended sails How long must I wait How long must I wait Till the mountains of avarice turn blue How long must I wait How long must I wait Till the moleskin I pick becomes fused? The drowning water you drink, passed on by birth I’m no longer willing to give you control