Wakey Wakey!

Wakey Wakey!


Morning has broken, yet again I am

Woken. What the, fires an alarming toll

Poking, again n’ again. It’s 4 AM

And I am smoking, ball point on a roll


My morning broken, thought now locked n’ chained

Continuously provoking, a Go’d damned

PUSSY RIOT! PUSSY RIOT! Mocked and blamed

It’s 5.30 a pig squealed, as it burned


Mourning broke, others choked, while I chuck one

Into a rolling ashtray. Ah, smell that

Coffee. An early bird caught by a worm

Turning. The screws tighten and that is that


It’s sicks, sixteen sorry eighteen rising

Death’s Bell tolls, on and on, anon, uprising.



P.S. I was hoping to have this as a video, but my equipment said no, so I have not, and since I wish to strike while the iron is hot, here she is.


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