i'll fix us a drink go down to the shore break into the paid beach timely at midnight residual light it's easy to see that three hours west the sun is still setting right about now setting foot into a creepy radio station for movies of zombies oh it got blurry is it fog is it clouds that surrounds me i hurry taking photos to swagger saw a hole in the atlantic back where local cows go to expire and it says DJ catchy i thought it would be playing that eerie tune catchy i thought it would be playing that old song on the new horns for you if illusion's the mother of art i wanna be artist nature is droughty i'm walking barefoot on it's carcass may troubly disguise fail to hide that you're just a goddess it would be nice to know what they imbibe on the roof palaeographical bliss and the sound of the parties breeding my envy and hugging my feet in the ground i might go ahead and perspire as much as i manage revolting against any weather stopped making sense how be ablazed if my blood is already cooking the skin is so fine so fine i can see the rose flesh shimmer right through it catchy i thought it would be playing that old song on the new horns for you maybe my blood's boiling down baby i'll keep you fevering my nervous lips are a promise to keep you in heat OK let's go on vacation come hop on my hunchback as a prevision of safety i'll have you for lunch it's perfect exactly 37° inside me if every place grows bellicose you can still live inside me