
the slow bit
we were supposed to be
fixing fences, fields and farms and things
instead we mixed our meds
and got ready for whatever
the sort of misadventure
that behaviour inevitably brings
luckily we had two guitars
and great big fuck off amps
we played the old stuff
in that old shed
it sounded partially obscene
we played some really tight new shit
a couple of deliciously evil tunes
to be canned
we stared at a million and one fucking stars that night
there was no agenda, no route, no plans
i got to drinking and you got so high
we both got quite philofuckinsophical
we went over the old us
those times and now
we embarked on a new zen
but we could have never found this connection
not all that way back then
it’s all perspective
it was a bloody good weekend
totally fuckin relaxed but
up in the bush
sleeping in a tin shed
drinking out of tins
eating out of tins
the really really really fast bit
meds and fences, meds and fences
don't fix themselves
meds and fences, meds and fences
and mental health
meds and fences, meds and fences
will fill your day
meds and fences, meds and fences
do the three pill sway
meds and fences, meds and fences
we’re damned
meds and fences, meds and fences
because we did
meds and fence, meds and fences
mix em up
meds and fences, meds and fences
a simple hiccup
meds and fences, meds and fences
wack em shelve em
meds and fences, meds and fences
stack em into ya
meds and fences, meds and fences
pack em into ya
meds and fences, meds and fences
brake late and skid

About the Creator
Bren
“I know what I mean it to be and respect that someone else may read something entirely different.” Me
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