"Fork Time"
My old running shoes
Run faster than you
You don’t know what you feel
You don’t know what is real
You just take what you get
You don’t know if you’re done yet
It’s fork time, it’s fork time
Write with a marker
That you are over
Lay down on your back
You’re not coming back
Lay still, for you will
Die here, alone, my dear
Your ears are red
Just like your bed
Your white sweater’s pink
I’ll wash it in the sink
I hope this blood dries soon
