Sign Here

Does the feeling ever go away?

The mind travel of night and day,
no rest until every moment passes through the sky.

A smile of death resides in a flat very near.
The sounds of close enemies turn up the heat everyday.

Never in the place known as home.
Talking to hidden friends out in the cold.

Sounds of angelic guitar feedback reverb off
the backs of dying millionaire shysters.

This scene decaying in the test tubes
leave an aroma trail of sleaze.

Who’s the whore that will give it up for a price?

In the corner like coat rack,
the black and white road hits a dead-end.

Reservoirs on each side of a synopsis
protect the whole picture from

total destruction.