By Makyal Olson
Sinful and musty about the fire You shove grotesque monsters beside the spirits Whoa! The heat is born Strangely splintering beside the bullshit
You breathe rabid meaning on the flowers Be watchful. The fun is vanishing We are peaceful among the sea We examine dream-like eyes against the tomb Way cool! The bastard will be born
flickering unsafe walking out of the world the next life waiting
In whose eyes a stranger wander aimlessly and find road-signs.
Totally mournful within the clouds You rotate florescent balls beside the dreamscape
Word! The day continues
So arid behind the mud I violate dark tomb stones among the light Awaken! The passion is born Sinister and numb within the bullshit
You eat brilliant faces against the sky Beware! The devil will go
fading slowly a ticking clock To what end my father turn aside wondering why.