my mouth is full of stars
there's crop circles in the carpet
with cave paintings on the wall
bones crack with out skin
at least i used to feel something
containment of this
you don't need a mirror to see that things are backwards
the heat is on
and time is flying by
but they won't find me here
the fowls will scatter to ashes
ashes that bow to flames
ashes bow to flames
and the clouds sing praise to the skies
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment