you know all thats come to this is everything we've deserved FUCKING BURNT BACON

I cant see anything but dog's asses and
mutilated twilights
I would like to venture foward
into optimistic hope                     
not only of human survival
but also the survival of human
thought and music and art and painting and
history,
but you know its like an inside tip I got
from an inside source:
I see it all dragging down
turning to burnt bacon
I see my face in the crippled begging pennies from
crippled madman,--
anything conjured like that,--
it all goes down begging
down the twisting landslide
past the valleys
the condemned and zero laughter of
the audience waiting.

you know all thats come to this
is everything we've deserved

the dark is empty;
most of our heros have been
wrong.