The Poured Boy Of Kutná Hora

Dan was singing about 10,000 crustations
And Meis was crying and we did not know why
How we hope she is alright, we passed a cross in the dark
It was lit up, and so where the pavements
The parts in the darkness
Which are chosen to remain illuminated

Maybe now we have done
What we said we would do
You can choose the local tradition
And make artful toilets
Some say the best art is often used

I take it two tiles at a time
Paying close attention to my feet
And to my pace and to the extra cracks
I’ve played this game for such a long time
Maybe I should I look up, maybe things are looking up
Maybe I can step in the cracks
Oh, but where is the run in that?

Should I jump and stop breathing?
I’ve thought of more complicated ways to die, you said
And I wrote down what you said on my phone
Once again dan pretends a plastic bag is something else

Poured poured boy