Tuesday, June 9, 2009

I am a creature, I am a postscript.

Ruins of yesterday, faded away.
There was a simple introduction to super human thought.
I think lies are too easy to hear.
Teardrop painstop, lambs fry,
Boys don't cry,
They fight.
Girls don't cry,
They get their claws out.
Suits could never live out of a suitcase.
How can these sights be anything almond.
I made the guy at the servo pick my icecream the other day.
What happened to what I was thinking.
Again, gone.
Girls, dead, boys, dead.
Nothing to do but watch the slaves in the mirror.

You don't believe me do you baby.

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