Hold Your Own, Know Your Name and Go Your Own Way.

Hold your glass up, hold it in.

I think I’ll go home and mull this over before I cram it down my throat. 
At long last, it’s crashed, this colossal mass has broken up into bits in my moat. 
Lift the mattress off the floor, walk the cramps off, and go meander in the cold.
Hail to your dark skin, hiding the fact you’re dead again. 
Underneath the power lines, seeking shade.
Far above our heads are the icy heights that contain all reason.
It’s a luscious mix of words and tricks that let us bet when you know we should fold.
On rocks, I dreamt of where we’d stepped and the whole mess of roads we’re now on. 
Hold your glass up, hold it in - never betray the way you’ve always known it is. 
One day, I’ll be wondering how I got so old just wondering how.
I never got cold wearing nothing in the snow. 
This is way beyond my remote concern of being condescending 
All these squawking birds won’t quit. Building nothing, laying bricks.