What are you doing here?
What do you want?
Is it music?
We can play music.
But you want more.
You want something & someone new.
Am I right?
Of course I am.
You want ecstasy
Desire & dreams.
Things not exactly what they seem.
I lead you this way, he pulls that way.
I'm not singing to an imaginary girl.
I'm talking to you, my self.
Let's recreate the world.
The palace of conception is burning.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
faces/
I walked into your house this morning; I brought the gun from our end table; Your blood was strewn across the walls; They'll find you on your bathroom floor.
I walked into your house this morning; I brought the gun from our end table; Your blood was strewn across the walls; They'll find you on your bathroom floor.
