There Will Be Incessant Singing

Your goat throat sucking on the root of any above
Yet they’re funding for the rotten, awful dross
I will be frothing, a wreck
Shaking like a fallen, bursted plate
Crooning over rodents, the rot, the rats
They’ll know this song, per rule

In doom I once was singing
And from there I hummed this breath
Hiss out in a “heh!”
There will be incessant singing
Even were the throat and the neck to refuse it
(And the lungs)