My words are not clear, I know, at all But language becomes foolish when all you do is crawl. Fear is coming And it would blind us all. My brain feeds
Would it sound stupid if I say That everything, and I say everything, has turned into grey? But what else should I say? What there?s out, I don?t like
A nail in the flesh To suffocate all the mess. A flower born dead, But its color?s still pink, my friend. A rotten apple falls off the tree. Though it
Violence makes ultra-violence. Hysteria made a shame in our bed. Violence makes ultra-violence. It?s a shame in our bed. ?And don?t look up? he said, ??
?Breathe the light and see the air. Look at me? the mirror said. ?Stop pulling your head underground, Instead of having it flying on clouds? I said: ?
A nail in the flesh To suffocate all the mess. A flower born dead, But its color?s still pink, my friend. A rotten apple falls off the tree. Though
Violence makes ultra-violence. Hysteria made a shame in our bed. Violence makes ultra-violence. It?s a shame in our bed. ?And don?t look up? he said
