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von Robocobra Quartet

It′s your world, we just live in it.
Cracked ankle for 1860 Munich.
Hell hath no fury like a scorned hopeful.
A mindful wait before you get some big idea:
A panacea to solve.


A waiter thunders through a swing door,
It wallops back and forth
And makes contact with the frame for a millisecond or two.

I thought about the pressure changing in the room.
I thought about the pressure we'd been under
Which we′d take on whenever we felt new.
This is us in limp mode.

You know that conservation of energy thing?
You get what you put in.