Killing Scientific

This is a very, very first draft. Help!

I can’t talk over you

But can you hear yourself?

Killing scientific

We’re all repeating ourselves

A hammer for my teeth,

A rag for my wounds

I’ll be good God damned,

I was worse off righteous

Cold moon’s a-risin’ mama,

there’s blood in my teeth

and a spike in my ribs

You’re preaching stardust

While I’m choking on your ashes

We’re all killing scientific

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Monkeys: There are no monkeys here. If you're looking for monkeys, go away. Well, actually there are monkeys, but they're of the hairless variety that writes poetry and such. If that's not what you're looking for move along.