It is us and them

moulded strong and beaten bad

down in the gutter, washed by the sea

in your pinch of salt and cup of tea

It is me and you

standing tall, of molten malt

thick and thin, sober and stoked

in the air you breathe, it is up in smoke

It is the life you live and the dream you see

it is your strength and your disease

it’s holding you together on your feet

you could not swallow, but it’s o’ so sweet

It’s crawling slow on your skin,

and coursing through in your veins

to ease your pain and make you numb

face up to the day, like we are Venom.

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