a bottle full of wishes settled in the hands of the criminal
slight disdain is formed in the croaking strangers drooping, freakish like eyes
a rabid, almost fetish induced trance befalls, its quite cynical
the right hands grip tightens to the side of a tattered vinyl jacket
and a quick flick of the wrist unveils a small but menacing pistol
"stop there" comes the voice of a citizen on patrol, gun raised high
a swollen, solitary eye eases into view of the cops hand
"die" and bam, the stage is set for a criminal investigation
the warrior flees into the night, off course faggishly uptight
two weeks after a funeral, revenge, cold blood, gun fight, its over
sadly, quite often, this mess happens, but there is a moral of course
.don't get drunk.
""The New Law of Righteousness," that there "shall be no buying or selling, no fairs nor markets, but the whole earth shall be a common treasury for every man," and "there shall be none Lord over others, but every one shall be a Lord of himself.""