| 3 entries | | |  | | | | untitled | wrote | | the theater is my drug
falts in life left only to my own doing,
its has renderd me numb, i can not feel in life,
so i must have others do it for me, in the theater. | | | | | swiving handlers handes | wrote | | we feast upon the handlers hands
to let the guvinor's pintel guvin all the land's
it's to rich astem a foe that dared , a wounded hart
the fictoriys the;s men gane thay prise both there haserd and there pain. | | | | | my ending prologe. | wrote | | an so there she liys at the last,
the death bed convert , de byis de bo,chee
i couldent have danced a single meacher could i? give me wine an i drink the driggs and toss the empty bottle at the world. show me your lord jeasus in agony, an i
mount the cross an steal his nails for my own pawms, there i go suffleing from the world. i look apon a pin head, an i see angels dancing.
well, do you like me now? | | | | | 3 entries | | |
|
