Buzz, world of flies drawn to garbage of lies and they drone
Sticky as syrup on fingers, annoyance lingers, each moment numbers grown
Crawling black dots raise, on legs, nose and eyes, sitting on a fleshy throne
Flies, mouths with wings, hunger their demise, they moan
Crawling over skin, not caring where they\'ve been, wind blown
From ash to trash, basket to casket they\'ve flown
Out I lash, I thrash, I bash, I smash, yet all of me they\'ve known
With the tone of their drone I groan and moan, for my sins I atone