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Apocalypse putin

Your war is sold Forever blind on the road and in the year of cold and mujahideen Your hearse is being towed At last to the Greek In shame for four lives Who roundedly count out the perfect steps Were it murder you would know about Introspection And Falun Gong And last pact at sea But by air And was nice not to worry As you, “the great”, Who didn’t believe in Tripoli Or lines to Scandinavia fire For the bored young columns And most are at war In Trinitarian by Doldrums Asking for rent by reparations This is the referendum In season, Lefthand you, Spinning death to Oslo And corner-judging your way to iconoclasts veer We vote as we can, Your mess is for grafting And piles of garbage be-rot Sycophantic flame Eponymous spark and writhing new This on dynamite and yours is fresh Time lost and women spent To Cuba or Wreckhouse The flooring diamonds of sweet hell Come to the street and burn it down Your death is so and pre-esteemed No-one makes it possible but you- In your tent And fires to Rome that fail In case of solemn poor who will- Who will kill you without fail And in the wind ashes blow- themselves to Moscow As Kremlin fires burn your own hand And forests new but of your petroleum six Your mother sang For the hands of a child Who murdered free And played with a pilot Who’s forgotten your name And is tired of war