The Walk Home

9/4/17 12:40 AM

"No Control" -The Molochs, 2017

Give me another one, why the hell not

Load me up with whatever you got

Is this a law firm?

I'm afraid I'm looking for a judge

I can plead my own case, I just need the wig

Some haughty moustache in a black velvet robe

Now I'm stumbling across the fratty porch next door

With suspicious motives and a weather worn couch

Falling down now, into a double doored apartment

It never seems alive

Now we're sitting on the stoop,

Menacingly, painstakingly trying not to slouch

Cartwheel inside, up three steps and into the den

Where the plants are kept and the colours start to blend

And that's how I got here, your honor

Sitting in a chair, pen in hand, ready to mend

As I sit in front of this mental bench of yours

I wonder where you come from

The levitation and stumbling was a way home

For me to find a trial in my own room

Was really quite rude

Pushed back onto the stoop, again,

Fighting off the slouch