It's getting hot in
My lonely old crooked gas chamber
But you're drinking the disease right out of my neck
Drinking and spitting drinking and spitting
A werewolf at my throat comme un papillion on golden days.
This kid's on the playground poking and tormenting
You've got their attention good and tight.
Like pokers to my shins, it's a no-good filthy whirlwind.
And i'm a caved in sandcastle, belly to the sky.
Baked in a witch's pie, indecent.
Hummingbird, just let me down Inside the broken ovals of your olive eyes. I do believe you gave it your best try. Oh hummingbird, sing to me.
Cinnamon pizza.
The bitter taste of afternoon longing. I can't do things right even when I try. So no one gets worried. Caterpillar hatred on my shrinking shoulder blades.
Bare feet take to shattered glass like an anvil to the ground, thrown from the highest floor.
The street is green and red and wet and I'm running away. Before your eyeless sockets tear my brain to shit.
It's the laughing stock of the whole studio.
