Avery

The house is in ruins, clouds billow out the sky, who will bring us truth, we all die intestate, however lawyers lie, it’s better than commensurate, even God is not immune, when money's put aside, but he won't be duped, coal burns in the grate, he sees how they cry, crabbed fingers on paper plates. it isn't me you fool, putting gold in their tide, seeking out lost tunes, am not yet a wooden crate, their poisoned eyes alight, debts have come too late, summons our different hues, while we laugh and cry, bring all my lovers too, tell them resign.