Because They Looked Like Crosses

Still sucking wind
Still tucking in
Still made of light and shit stains
And broken by the din

I fucking win
One common skin
A single thought and a trail of bones
Leads to all men

Let's do it again
Burn the sun within
And trade four billion waxing clouds of dust
For a pyrrhic win

Since fucking when
Are these monuments?
A foothold in a deathtrap
God above
With a smile so thin