Who Will Save Him by Pop, better known as Mulla Gjorki
In the National Assembly, it was decided to clog the quarries with our guy. He wasn’t proud of it but he was hungry. By the next Brumaire the stench beside his house was so bad even whores wouldn’t visit him.
The personal isolation led him to talk to his own teapot. To stare at inanimate objects for hours on end. To misspell letters.
I once saw him play at The Gardens. Before the Coming. Dressed all in orange.
Who will save him from being a man? Not me.