Drummed Addiction Triumphing


Sweet curved addiction
Never wanting to explode into space
For fear it would take this feeling away
This feeling of naked intelligence
And all the men walk up and down
Many hands in pockets
All the men walk up and down
I watch them rearrange
Sweet rough addiction
It triumphs over thought
A look that allows gentlemen to know
That the addiction is shared
Minor detail can be spared
Major detail is the holy statue
If the explosion is laid forth
Aesthetics becomes rusted
At least for a day
And the men walk up and down
Many hammocks swaying
The men walk up and down
I watch them rearrange
The addiction triumphs
Over artery and vein
Blood thumping over limb and treasure
A continent of tunnels and carriages
A homeland full of tight shorts
Tight shorts and hay-seed in socks
The addiction helps grow
A thousand hairs on a hundred chests
Golden, Golden hairs
Plucked by the Aesthetes
To ward off the rust and fuel their lives
And all the men walk up and down
Up and down
Up and down
Rearranging, addictions coursing

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