Fugazi

Down at the station
We question our rations
Wut you seem satisfied with the little recieved
Fractured appetite with bismuth pink on tap
Ascetic limbs gone tight and your lips are clamped and grey
Crash your appetite erasing every mark you make
Standing in the corner while you're working up your mantra
'derail the train the train the train derail the train'
Take the time to hesitate