From Dis-Ease

The needle comes

With the promise of peace

Of feeling numb

From the dis ease

But tables turned 

By the devil himself

And the dis ease

Flies in like flies.

Coming back

Is painful, true

But oh the only

Thing to do

To live again

And feel the son

To see the moon beams

and sun rays

and dust mites

and apple blight

through fresh water eyes.

The salt is added

in the cup

the muck disperses

and the lips turn up

And love the one

the one someone.