|Registreeru | Logi sisse | In english|
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I) There's Possum in the Morphine Fields
Miasma will befriend like a well oiled palm. The grass is so green. The grass is so clean. Besides the oaks I blink beneath one tree to flow. Amongst the stones I quake within it's grave to spin. I'll spin.
I can't make any sense anymore. My verse falls empty. Words now enemies. I'm going home.
There's one chance to be lost. There's one day I won't be drunk. Goddamned, I'm bleeding all.
II) My Pills... Quick
To see no one. Must be my tranquilizers. Enlisting my scorched Earth and barbed wire. I don't feel tranquil. I feel confused. I am confused.
'I'm sick to death of the shit of hicks in turtlenecks.'
- Old Man Lowry