Holy whiskey remedy, will you save me from sobriety of light?
Carrion crawler trapped between my legs. Half-way down to promised land, that fictious pit of puppy love.
True blue is a shade of black.
Love full, think high, drink empty, bet low.
Knows she’s got nothing to do when these sorrows come.
won’t work the nightshift.
Loop a track, rewind it back, clock reset. You timeless empties and liars.
There’s the filler and the killer camp. I’m a filler. You give me an hour, I’ll turn it into thirty 60-seconds; you give me a minute, I’ll make it a sigh. I’m pretty good, for my standards. On a sterile day, I go lie in bed and wait for sleep, to wake into Monday or […]