Balkanized - Pyrrhon

I’m standing on the platform

And there’s a pile of trash bags

Swollen with former objects of desire

Stripped of office, like corrupted priests

In black plastic vestments

And cast out to vagrancy

So now they wait with me

Twitching with the palsy

Of the rats in their guts

That shriek as the train approaches

To take me home

There’s a negative copy of me

In a bus station on a dusty plain

A thousand miles away

And one day we’ll meet

Swept up by different flags

We’ll lock eyes through gunsights

And I wonder which one of us

Will die beneath the other’s knives

And I hope it will be him

It’s not personal

But I’ll rip your throat out if I have to

I’ll tear your guts out if I’m asked to

You’ll rip my throat out if you have to

You’ll tear my guts out if you’re asked to

It’s nothing personal

Because we’re both the same

Lemmings rushing away from a mirror

And towards a cliff