Cash & Colt Poem by Pierre Rausch

Prints and Bag
Squash, peaches
Till' it breaks
Capital figures on my desk

The cashier shall
The bank assisten shall be
With this man
The clen bones

They shall have
Give it the cold way
Yet in your hands
Cash & Colt

No more may offer
The blows of the cry
Though there are nails
Till it breaks down

Where blew a flower, may a flower bloom
Where blew a winter, may a summer bloom

The love of the city
Though there are nails
Till it breaks down

Prints and badge
Squash, peaches
Till' it breaks
Chapital figures on the desk

They shall have
Give it the cold way
Yet in your hands
Cash & Colt

But blurt blue
You were mad, you weren't sorry
Assembly shop mechanics
You've believed

What isn't,
If it isn't anything towards,
Forget, don't sleep,
Heir to the scaffolding,
To all night and day,
Someone that's not my eye,
Don't leave that real name behind