Them

They hit you with their papers when you're living On loan. They're the ones who say nothing when you Answer the phone. You see them in the alleys when You're passing late at night, but you tell your friend To check it and there's no one in sight I never wanted it I never asked for it I surely didn't sleep with them If the phone rings, don't answer it Death is their only way to survive The neck of Anubis strangled by wire They hold their eyes in their fist One is fire . . . one is ice They roll them across the bed like some loaded dice 7 come 11 but I could not stay I kissed her eyes on the sheets I took a bus to yesterday Their flesh is a cemetery, centuries old . . You are free as a lap dog Just do what you're told They wear spandex and gloves And feed on fetus flesh They're the fashion rage Of the empirical age But I never wanted them Never asked for them Didn't sleep with them Please don't answer it Death is their only way to get high The neck of Anubis strangled by wire They say, "I'll live for your sins If you will die for mine . . ." I'll summon the darkness If you buy the wine They're all underage Yet they're a thousand years old They make you feel so clever while you're being sold