Feedback, Baby

Hey baby,
I was born in the breath
before the microphone whine;
made with bruised knuckles,
bathed with a mouthful of wine.

Feedback, baby…
My voice shall always follow yours,
but yours, never mine.

Lovin’ you is easy,
when your lips grind up to mine.
Silence our sheltered enemies
with discordant rhymes.
Show me your ethos
and I’ll scream out mine.

Feedback, baby…
Let your vodka lips
make your eyes
shine, shine, shine.

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