I took a shower in your blood,
under the moon lit sky.
The stars and planets they said please,
we split you up like a cheap apple pie.
Except the black whole who we promised you soul,
is sitting there and waiting.
When we are done it’s time for his fun,
then begins the hating.
You can’t escape or do anything,
for most of eternity.
When you’re done you’re not finished yet,
it’s time for the next galaxy.
dead beat poet 