the pinecone told me what to do and i obeyed remind apollo of the booster whom he flayed i asked the butcher if he ever felt dismayed counting organs in the body when the flesh is stripped away without a mind without a body or a mind without a mind without a body or a numb and useless mind i guess i m sick i can t get up i try and try i wipe the crusted out mascara from my eyes i hear the songs that people sing before they die there is a world above the blankets that are blocking out the sky without a mind without a body or a mind without a mind without a body or numb and useless mind the usefulness of being still has come and gone just like the jolt of cruel dreams before the dawn or like that melting piece of ice you sit upon becoming number than the feathers of a molting yellow swan without a mind without a body or a mind without a mind without a body or a numb and useless mind in the streets where glass is ground into a powder fine the drifting wind will blow it grinding through your mind the curbs where skulls have cracked and teeth have been realigned old trees where multitudes of pissing dogs encounter the sublime without a mind without a body or a mind without a mind without a body or a numb and useless mind