The kerosine holy water saturated and wine washed lips, no afterlife smut nor elegant bound page will save you. Discharge a tenth to supply nepenthe, lower your head down. A confession: the dust can dance but it too will settle. Old beds that hosted our sleep, those things a waif could reach, did a swear pass the meaning? What prayers were they leaving? An early grin, warm, wrapped in faith will lay me down. Are we born again? Convince yourself the air will change.
Гуру Песен