times are im afraid of this death

Ashes of nylon navels and shoes that are shrouds
of last smiles and formaldehyde

Again the point is
It does not matter whether you understand me or not

I listen to this womany talk of being broke from payday
to doomsday and phoenix ashes in the winds scatter
last particles on my single mind individual face

This woman is my (r)age, and I dont believe it!
She claps her hands like my mother
and I can't rise from my seat
The firewood isn't yet dry
and choking smoke enters nostril sepulchres
there's no law for death

I'll phone you, but strictly not tonight.