The King Charles Era

The King Charles Era
New sound, new style, still the same loser.

Beauty Marks


Little voices around me tell me I'm getting uglier, the fatter I get.
It's disheartening.
And it's female voices, too.
Even worse.

The weight is from the meds.
I can get the weight off.
But I feel like my father.
Who decided long ago that he would bear a "beer" gut.
Made him feel like a man.

My gut makes me feel like Rupert Murdoch.
Too fat to do sports, too rich to invest in it.

My bars with my gut are disgusting.
My beats got some weight with them.

I don't know. 
Maybe the superficial can be heard.
The subconscious may even pick up superficial waves.
Regardless, I'm not looking to be a sex symbol.

A messenger, from the beyond, of the unknown, and right in front of you.






Out!

 

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