i looked to my right hoping to see a bass player keeping the low end tight behind me hoping to see someone
streets become narrow and sidewalks vanish layers are important heavy socks and the right pair of boots
i saw atrocity and deceit upon the… blood spilling down its jagged cli… tragedies unbound scaling the peak i tried to warn others not to climb this vicious monster
if significant to one and not to another maxims adages cliches
clear skies are the feathers with which the lesser gods tickle their twats and dicks sunshine is the gleam of a puckered asshole
seven years ago almost home coming over the bridge from a show in The Windy City we hit the ice
a $5 footlong at Subway before a meeting on Thursday Burnin’ For You came on the speak… i wanted to call you
black shirts worn at day they spoke mostly of music bonded by the odd
in my timber heart her kisses became axes clearing a forest
i thought that god was playing hide and go seek with me but it was just
altar of vodka haloed cocktail, angel blood she prays 80 proof
he keeps it bottled for days like these vintage destinies rush toward the… breaths of dead fruits inhale deep… and he drowns himself in their req…
trust me i am a moth and there is light ahead i would not lead you into absolute… i would not take you into perpetua…
the next one in the holder on the… can barely contain itself one corner is already protruding hoping like hell that when she finishes her burrito
walking down Rundberg a gentleman of the homeless junkie… approaches me from ahead “hey mayne ima be hones wischu
