I Feel Over It... I Feel Like Running Away and Selling My Blood.
I Really Do.
Virgin Mother, Jesus, Saints, emperors and empresses. I now know Lucifer and he has my back, Anton don’t be afraid of Michael, he struggles but he gets by. Anton eat this Styrofoam and be like Taylor, Taylor the gentle kind hearted west. Anton befriend Taylor, his empire crumbled like Doritos his wife red as cherry, Anton take this distortion box put it to your body clock and let loose. Michael drink and drink and drink till your bottles break in your throat, Michael stop throwing Frisbees at the wall, you’re too good for that loner kind of shit.
Asbestos lungs and a chlorophyll tongue Aleksandra strolls in, Emigration seems to take control of her once settled mind, she cuddles with these heretics, and she taunts them with candle lit teeth which sink into their tracked arms
I'm Sorry
