TRIP

This man is like a toad,
He jumps without a soul.

I remember when you were told.
'n now you think you can attone.

These rocks on this shore,
Are like aliens with no home.

Splashed up against time,
Laughing at these rhymes.

This man is like a toad,
Jumping down the road.

He found a passive place,
That's spinning like a wheel.

The workers have no face
And their eyes have lost all faith.

This hunter looks for more.
He seeks a travelling whore.

Someone to bless his hate
And have sex with his holy fate.

Like jagged pieces of steel
That can tear appart this tire.

Crashed into this world,
Naked with his desire.
He jumps without a soul
And no one will ever know.