Boys run like water from the barrel to the trough
They’ll never stop their running
Gunning for their brothers
This house is a hostel
It is peaceful, but it’s always emptying
Boys all want to be someone
Haven’t you heard
I am a flightless bird
I am a liar, feeding facts to a false fire
If pathos is borne out of bullshit in formal attire
I’ll score you a string ensemble
