Ba Jin (Feat. Halnya Andri)

INLAND TAIPAN, SPANISH DANCER: Forked tongues flicking over yellow fangs The phone never rang Pangs of hunger echo through a dead mall Shouts thrumming muster vitriol Demon’s paw stamped on pall bearers Murmur’s on the other side of the wall Nothing left to do but wait for fall Proffer riches to dead finches Cure for what ails just a lure Impure life Buer offers a helping hoof No fingers it’ll have to do Never ask for proof Collapsed roof Paimon whistling a tune in Arsuf All gone Twirled like a pawn By dawn occult songs pour out of chimney smoke and still lakes Distillation of deals made by mistake Leaves raked F for fake Take what comes as it comes don’t waste your breath on complaints Outside Asmodeus laughs at your regrets and waits Crass and pious service to the left hand of fate Open up the gates Tacky fountains still peppered with pennies from 1988 Carry the weight of the lesser key
 Golden flowers lined on balconies Tartarus pit flit about unearth Archimedes Belial sabotages the peace treaty Transparent denial no tact Pyramid burial aisle stacks Shax and Sabnock peer through masks
 Ancient dock-house door knock nefarious tasks
 Luciferian memoir cask of blood
 Storm of mud Stem and bud Seat of the inverted throne the source of the flood Halnya Andri: Slick stains, blacktop brick panes Crack spot adjacent, cellar windows The moonlight, oozing despondence A sober soul, now solely Just rememberance for broken neck dollies, forgotten Foregone plotting, window shopping in anger Cater to the masses, whiplash of betrayal I've never known future, all delusions Cemetery pollution, penitentiary institution All pslams, palms empty and clueless Fishnets, dance quietly; through silent storms Collapsing uses, am I useless? Job applications, phasing through my meager comfort Escaped the trials, daily cycle of slumber What was once hunger, is perennial occupation Just disgusted by a moment of serenity Dismembering all sentiments, delicately Bricks thrust, on threats of a memory Take it all from me, bury me in blacktop Shot dead, on the last bus stop Pull slots, to stripped copper winnings Only hope, to live to a swift ending Tears are soft beginnings, all decaying Serrated knives, serenading my wits in servitude The sharps pot, boiled over remnants It was all a lie, under qualified for life Ruminating, on death; only living through longing eyes Solemn demise, comatose with mitosis Shattering mirrors, to see both sides A body of contradiction, encapsulated by time Severe all ties, a welder's demise Twisting wires, short circuits Sometimes we die, to find a purpose