The Wakeless Prudy


Pickelike I hover there

Trying to find you everywhere

From my ears floating down tears

Wearing rings in eyery car's gears

Crawling out thy month

Will get lost in the south

No thoughts - just a word

Never blowing up the world


Lights give no more light to the blinds

Just dive into pints

You'll look behind

You must not be a divine legend

Just try to find the heart of a sergant

But don't do it like a surgean