Bactine versus Bakhtin (Take Two)
Mike and me are goofy limbed and on our way to Jake's Place
We're being tailed by a blue mist and this long bone finger
What keeps reaching through the blue to scrape my heel
We've never seen lazy-eyed Jake look the same way twice
He likes to shave only part of his face to give you half
A mustache, a wrong-ways mowhawk, that one side-burn
Fucker's got a mason jar full of Oxys he'll crush with his thumb
We hide behind those dusty white walls for days inside days
We keep at the lines, blacking out and into the idea of who
We might become.
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