Black plums getting fatter every summer
Half us in the cabinet getting sadder every upper
Classic outdoors-man scratching panic on the cave walls
Strays out front but plums like baseballs
Plucked from the arms of the earth
Hellfire at the school, how are you on about some farmers desert
I'm in a circle of craters, same as your boot in the trench
Defending everything from something, plum juice on my chin
All of that kicking and screaming begun a foot in a web
You playing footsie with a foot of cement, what you expect?
For every bullet I have caught in my teeth I earn a privilege of a trip to be in awe of the tree
A hundred years in the future I hope a photo exists
Of some historic moment happening somewhere close to the crib
Maybe some heavenly zealot yelling and wielding a gun
And there I am in the back enjoying the meatiest plum
Oblivious and doing my version of smelling a rose
Stupid look on my face I am never in vogue
I was probably in my head about the essence of hope
Taking a second so direction could be fed by the grove, no
I was probably in my head about some sneakers I seen
Oh my god I figured these were extinct, no honestly
I see my younger self in pictures and think
More plums probably would have been an interesting thing