To find rythym within the screech

Be at a loss

(And a twinge delusional)

(The acceptable kind)

They'll help you

That's why they preach

The inevident tale

That's also evident

At the same time!

Without the tales affect

The world will end.

To have never drowned

In those wonderous words

Is automatic

BAD

To drown is to rule over all

To have drowned

Is to be evermore lost

And so close

Yet drifting away to your dirty thoughts.

Those people are bad.

Those people knew

Yet chose to kill themselves.

They are the delusionals.

So please

Come

And kill yourself the right way

The right way is not mine

(It is)

But the Pigeon's.

I love the Pigeon,

For it is the only Pigeon.

Why are you looking at all those pigeons?

Look away.

The Pigeon said so.

I understand him.

He does not speak English

But I speak Pigeon.

I know what he says

Because I am the Pigeon.

All along

The others will never know.

But I am the Pigeon.

You fool!

How could you figure?

Aren't we all pigeons?

Others are fake.

My only kind Pigeon is real.

Do not forget that

To find the rythym within the screech.