we be clubbin'
brenda opens a mouth
and takes a bite
your tongue lays on
the floor of your roof
the sun a small fruit
god holds in its mouth
the juice runs down
and covers the trees
brenda opens up cans
belts out the blues
in the club on the edge
of town it holds onto
the sky is made of blue
air and cloud and sky
and at night you can see
we are lost forever and
brenda burns bras back
in the seventies with
other friends with bras
who are below the sky
as the world was destroyed
we thought to ourselves
we should have seen this
coming and slept less
