promise your secrecy into the microphone

into the megaphone, into the cell

questioning decency under the microscope

over and over then over and out

organise my life over the telephone

over my dead body, over my head

tread a fine line between you and your memories

between you and me things are best left unsaid



the honouring of violence

is a security number

always so quiet it slips under your guard

pushes your dead body, under the microscope

over and over it's over say over and out



another incident, another accident

dangerous emptiness, people in shock

you pelt them with rocks

and the old innuendo