I woke up to an unmade bed, with checkered walls and a velvet rug

In the eye of the ghost with the eagle heart instead.

The rat patrol was on my tail, but I knew what I could do

Now listen to the rats rush in



Schoolly D in a velvet sun, the dead horse runs away.

His voice sounded like a Roman holiday

Fern wood seeds and motor oil, I have no time to sit and toil



If you knew the places I've been, you'd surely lose your head

Don't wonder if the crows would eat your kin



This poem is about: 
Our world


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