A si is a, a si, unfortunately.

I can’t touch the moon
For it is so far away
Grasping oxygen between palms
‘Led’ to sure dismay
I don’t want to touch the moon
Not now, just never
How I really hate the moon
In it’s entirety forever
Everything I say is a lie
I guess I’m telling the truth
I wish you died
Here is your noose
Head on the wall
Head is a moose
Dead is resolve
Death is a spoof
Why don’t we leave this place
You say with haste
My eyes burn so much
we’re such a disgrace
But Darling how I love your face
But now I regret the chase.

-Steve Rich


About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
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