THE EGO AND THE PARANOIA 2

paranoia is the burning bedroll

of a blunt in the birthday daylight

halfway up the haul of the white lion hill

overtaxing the hysterical jags

as the rodent dark crawls on in
assuming it need not even ask for blood

after the late night takeaway

paranoia disappears me

like im an experiment in a maze of mistakes
like its el salvador when the sun goes down

and paranoia
orders one shot of each and everything

in the glass columns behind the golem bar

in the bottleneck half hour of the tick tock

with

newcastle browns

flat abyss chaser

in a dishwasher warm

half pint glass

glue leaked out the bottles label

is a frozen teardrop of tobacco tar

and paranoia

hangs my door key

around my neck

just in case you know tho i am rarely out

just for the bins and that you know
cos paranoia says 
anyone can get lost 
in the lynchian depths
of a front yard anteroom

and paranoia

says the songbirds and the bluebirds call

for the zipped files

on a locked card

in secret compartment

in the back

of my GPS 
deactivated

mobile phone

they call from the palm trees

decapitated stumps feathered like corn

across the white trash speedtrap street

and my ego weighs in

and my ego tells me

that

tho

i have no wings no more to beat no more

in judgement over the square mile

over parliament

hammersmith apollo
borders jazz cafe
centre point
and Time and All Creation

that i should not worry

as its clear-as-fuck its the mandela effect

or CIA meddling in a black chopper backwash

and the truth will out

it says

the truth will always out

or never will

from fanpop.com