Too bad, there is no way you’re climbing out of here.
The train driver asks where it is I’m travelling too. I pass him a handful of notes and plead that he takes me beyond. It’s the only place I want to go. He hands me back some change and prints out a ticket. ‘It’s a long trip.’ he says.
Get well soon Morrissey, the trees are with you.
Itchy Scratchy trash
All over his arms and face
Never fades. It glows