:: . ::
The more I hear them...crying... out...
_
spoken. at 12:07 PM
The air raids at night -
are keeping things serene
The president's men are closing in on me ;
and the cross-hair grin you hold me in;
still does not propose -
an argument convincing me to shed the Devil's clothes.
Electrodes to spine,
tonguing my wounds clean -
and that's where the madness stops : "Oh yeah, I had a dream ! I had a dream !" It went -
shackled to the lover of another
in a chapel so pristine
Baptised as Atheists - I've never felt so clean.
The more I hear doves cry; the less I want to fly.are keeping things serene
The president's men are closing in on me ;
and the cross-hair grin you hold me in;
still does not propose -
an argument convincing me to shed the Devil's clothes.
Electrodes to spine,
tonguing my wounds clean -
and that's where the madness stops : "Oh yeah, I had a dream ! I had a dream !" It went -
shackled to the lover of another
in a chapel so pristine
Baptised as Atheists - I've never felt so clean.
The more I hear them...crying... out...
WHERE does the seizure end ?
WHEN DOES the cyanide KICK IN /
I'D LIKE TO HIKE YOU UP ABOVE THIS WASTE OF LOVE - AND BACK AGAIN
OH MY MISTRESS - whoa sweet distress ! Your dress is bringin' it all back to me
WE ARE CLOSER than pornstars caught in a roundabout
IN HELL.
WHEN DOES the cyanide KICK IN /
I'D LIKE TO HIKE YOU UP ABOVE THIS WASTE OF LOVE - AND BACK AGAIN
OH MY MISTRESS - whoa sweet distress ! Your dress is bringin' it all back to me
WE ARE CLOSER than pornstars caught in a roundabout
IN HELL.
_
spoken. at 12:07 PM
