from by Fake Sick

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well my hairy handed friend you better brush your fucking teeth or watch your fucking mouth in the mirror for weeks eat leaves and breed these sacred and wasted babies lay me in the pasty gravy of the mangy angels I only made it to this age by pacing and waiting i faked every sickness that ached me I guess, blessed be these wretched beings, I've still been listening to etched and sketchy queens- yes stephanie definitely they will persecute you, curse your world of hurt and of course that wacky attitude will we learn that the worst is bad but the actual wackness awaits in the ratchet sadness of the ages we caught tender and amazing plagues crossing graceless stages where the gradients of grey marked the prints for the passage of the paces and creatures sleeping in the clay create the shapes for the fossils of the future are fake baseless only because today is amazing but every human being i seen has been another fatherfucker on a string i been a thing on a string (he's just a thing on a string) we could kick it for the privilege like rats round the vicarage wacked on the nightmare status, they don't really blame us for that- when the rats come visit for a week long cousin, black lung, green lung, ass bong, wizard of widgets if any limp wrist prick with a lisp or witch with a purse like me could party til needing to be nursed or worse case scenario cuddling a curse giving birth to the hand in the glove in the glass jar- how fast does the time past after having backed over something that you loved with your moms car? is it the same rate then as alone and stoned down in the basement minutes and moments broken bones


from STINKER, released August 24, 2016



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Fake Sick Olympia, Washington

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