Earache

Nihl. America perched peacefully on a black oak on a moonless eve. I see nothing but a faint light in the darkness. Is it salvation or my digital clock? Is it weird I don't care? We quarrel in the canals knee deep in infection. Eighty three have died today. Ninety five died yesterday. Their bodies are now a dam we built a little ways up. I want to riddle this place with M-80s and place a few thousand sticks of dynamite in the oval office. A great show to play along to the ringing in my head. Serve up some pills and pass the syrup, baby, cause it's gonna be a long night!