pack your rations, pack a watch
change of clothes and a face cloth
meat me where your mother lies
weˤll dig graves on both her sides
and lay ourselves in side
a thousand suns will set and rise

our hair tangled up in hers
fingernails beneath the dirt
sharing all her blackened brains
our blood running through her veins
well even as we came
our bodies are one and the same

iˤll try but iˤll never be a gentlemen

you try, but you only ever treat the symptoms

you know it comes you know it goes.