poetry

spoken word

song lyrics

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poetry || photo || log

The Hikers

Three young hikers with borderline crossed the border line
they're following each others paths while luck stores her dice
equipped with hope during cold days, and a little warmer nights
eventually found a motel with a 3 star restaurant and ordered wine
the waiter responded “we have only got fried eggs, and the water’s fine”
lucky to be luckily unknowing it's about to become a manslaughter night
they went through the backdoor not bothering looking into the porters eyes
black rain coats had V mask masked faces, and put out the street corner lights
armed to their teeth with sharp tongues, aimed to take someone’s daughter’s pride
little did they know about how little they knew, it’s about to become a mourner’s sight
let's skip a page, the hikers entered the stage, and held the singer since they sought her mic
in total rage, they became sage, slayed sentences with their words and legends were born, first lie
this happens all around the world, don’t panic if you ain’t watched, unless you can’t afford her time
talked contraceptives, like if the next quarter might make out with the next hour and have her abort her child
it's all fairy tales, a performer's lie never fails, untill someone makes truth out of small lies that used to be former white
question; is there life after death? Well, the only sure thing is you can only increase your chances of experiencing a shorter life
can't escape death, second lie, the first was true, but the second's not. Advice; don’t release your word army before yours've heard mine...

© Martin Ångnell 2010 - 2017