I am the fool
I am not a prophet and I am not a merchant
I want your substance and I want you to know it
I want decay and your love for decay
I want to see your grey insides to kiss your fat and aborted wrinkles
To eat your guilt and its permissions
​I will lick your self-indulgence and false moral contracts
And I will penetrate the hole in your head
The guts of your diseased civilization
And remain hidden in there
Until the next decadence
The next descent

I am ready now to become again
Decomposed matter
Decayed skin
Eating the wall the column
Jailed and corroded
My king has left me again
Trapped and I’ll remain
In that ageless structure as your testimony

Of such a sensible era
Living the money-moment
Always subject to change
Stock-market-index-discourse
All suits you too well

The freak show is perpetrated
Yet where there once was joy
Now conformism
Where there once was wit and burst
Now good intentions facebook friendships
My old masters they knew how to puke
How to shit and celebrate
All were wrecked not quite unlike you’ll be
‘Cause masters go jesters remain