September 2009
1 post
Stacks and stacks and stacks of shirts, piled high Fans blowing at 67 miles per inch, blow the head off Spinning records into an Utopian future Television reflection of a bearded man This is my existence, man is changing, weakening, darkening, dying Constant chemical fights, caffeinated alcoholic nicotine fucks I am god I am am my own god Open the door to the sunny city and give it a stroll A man...
