"mating on the crags" - E.P.

me, I'm
mating on the crags
with the psychos and the fags,
seeing the dregs of America
fly their own anti-flags...
hackly and heckled
contracting mutating diseases to
spawn something hopefully
north of nothing

It's the story of the leech-tight psych-ward wrist-band,
of riches to rags to grocery cards,
of birth-controlled orgies,
sterilized liberties, and the death-star nanny state,
of many generationed Americans
freezing gaunt in sanctioned hobo camps...
and soul-lobotomied doctors
finding their guttered-way by street-light

I'm mating on the crags
with the junkies and the fags,
seeing the dregs of America
fly their own anti-flags...
just waiting on the crags
for the war-heads
to do their dance of equality