Britain and Structure - Eleventh He Reaches London

All I am fiction incarnate, anchored songs from a womb or lair

All I hate Britain and structure, fiscal goals for a house to share

Of the grain and land I’ll never have, I’ll be caught in another man’s house,

though I’ll spend my life in prison

I’m the best I’ll ever get

You’ll wait and write me letters, I’ll reply to every one, you’ll feel good

about being loyal

But I’m the best you’ll ever have

Thoughts will crack my skull, so I lay to sleep through weather, I’ll toil away

There’s no ship of change, so I lay to sleep through weather, I’ll never be home

Thoughts will crack my skull as I dig my fingers into the breach for nothing,

I’ll toil away

There’s no ship of change, so I lay to sleep through weather, I’ll never be home

I’ll toil away

I’ll be held never, so lay and moan

I’ll be drained lifeless, and lay and moan

In my head I’ll never let you go, bullshit chivalry, extinction is okay to bare

I’ll write with my liver, hamstrung literature, explaining my ruin

There’s a reason why I drink, there’s a reason why I’ll die here singing along

to comfortless verses and smashing glasses of wine to prove my point

There’s a reason why I stole, there’s a reason for as long as I can remember,

I’ve wanted to kill myself to prove a point

There’s a reason why I stole, there’s a reason for as long as I can remember,

I’ve wanted the world to know me alive through death