Drop buttered toast on the pavement falls right side up
But you will flop and quiver with your crumbled nose in the dust
Under ladders your hearted soul leads aimlessly away
But after tripping off heights to the thrashing water your breath will be astray
Black cats do whisper and slink about your corners, drowning disgrace as your cloak
If you run into a sketchy bar depressingly drunk I wouldn't take a drink from the pleasantly accented bloack
If the sky is red in the morning then sailors should take warning
But if your sheets and walls and hands are on fire what is left for you than the ashes soaring
Women can't drive is how the old saying goes
But let's say the gorey pavement was left after you were bulldozed
When you sneeze, about you someone is speaking
But the wailing truths are always there, you just aren't listening
Say Bloody Mary in the mirror three consecutive times as the clock struck twelve
Though only the bloody reflection of nightmares will your imagination dweleve
The superstitions are accusations of your unpleasant life's action
But all these unpleasantries were brought on by your own worldly interactions
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