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Peacock In Piccadilly

de Sleep Please

Nothing’s wrong with a little wronging now and then,
only to seek a little fortune for myself
If there’s a better
Time, a better place then you name it; Just know that your obligations aren’t the only ones at hand
If there’s a will
There’s a way
And my will be done this way
Your devotion wavers today

I’ll cut you off!
Like fingers or digits or anyone else who didn’t think this through
Who didn’t think me through?
This is, This is... this is the lust of our likeness
This is the root of your wrath.

You wiped that smile right from my face
So I’ll scrape that face right from it’s skull

I took my time
With this one
I Loved her
Anger-saturated skin

Is this the
Essence of us all?
What have we done?

Oh God, what have we done?

Meow.

Revisit; sanctioned and consensual;
Too much, it seems. Though the morals have changed
What remains familiarity, conceived in this bed
Is 'Who’s laughing now?', when I’m right and you’re dead...

Death to the traitor
To the nation of my expectations
Death to the traitor
To the nation... my nation

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