[Pray high, sinners]

Pray high, sinners. Take the pills and parcel them

out amongst the lot of you. Find forgiveness

in the lighter head, the warmer numb.

Ask our lord for a hand and he’ll shake us

clean. I died for you one time, but never again.

Lift lines like lifting spirits – we live in heaven now.

At least we think this is where we are. Darker

than originally imagined, louder than the place

we came from. Our fathers said this will pass

and we don’t believe them worth a bit of salt.

We’re worth a bit of salt. A bit of sound, quiet

or otherwise – good men know where they are.

We are not good men. We are the big-eyed bugs

who can’t see the future. Who are built to ruin

moviesets and pretty girls crying in their homes.

Eighteen eyes, eighteen drinks in, we can’t see

eighteen inches before us. Damned by our loves.

Silly rabbits – they thought we’d scatter when the lights came on.