Nausea

Dripping limbs
in a vat of grins
an irrational spin
a dispassionate binge
The world’s a machine
With grass on a hinge
Let’s reactivate the din
Those made us believe that sin
Could really be true
And for that matter let the word ‘true’
Dictate what you do
Rip fate of what it’s due
Trip the fake over knives let their guts spill
Sip tea with rakes scratch out your lives