When love mistook it was the mind,
all kinds of hell broke out, you
see.
Well, love, it got real lost in all
loose change and counterfeit three
dollar bills
and, well, I needn’t have to tell
you it’s a god-damned sin, my
friend,
a love-forsaken bloody shame.
It’s like some crosscut saw becomes
an eye and all the sights turned out
divided. I’m not talking long
division but the slow and violent
sort. It makes you sick to think
of it. Like everything was either
this or that and if you wasn’t
on the side it occupied,
well you was on the other side,
and please believe me, that’s no
scenic
point of view to be. In fact,
it’s all-out war. And not the
worldly
only, small potatoes too,
just people being people, taking
everything so personal.
It’s quite the horror, don’t you think?
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