measured by a ready wreckoner’s yard, so what?
late for a wretched Wreckoner’s Ball, that’s all,
wrote off in a wreckoner’s clammed-up claws,
wrenched in a wreckoner’s rustin’ jaws …
you’re damnaged
too much needs repair
you’re damnaged
too much wear, too many tears
you’re damnaged
too much fixin’ required
you’re damnaged
too much tame, too many tired
and o’er this time
you clunk, thunk
you was doin’
fine
and o’er this time
you clunk, thunk
you would cross
some finish line,
fisinh lein?
… and the transplant fee’s on high, boom boom
… and the replacement parts unfound, boom boom
… and you wait, wait, wait in a queue, queue, queue
… but those doctor’s just as fucked as you
Boy!
you’re damnaged
lost sum bolt and nuts
you’re damnaged
edge unfit, it juts
you’re damnaged
side’s gone all skewiff
you’re damnaged
shit hits now when not if
Chris L Taylor
