Zealot Speak
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Laying low I'm a lowlife
Late night
I always stay quiet
The bread rise
The consequence
Then it captures me
Dig a shoulder in
I never fell asleep
When we were down against the floor
I sink ships
Curve against the earth
Stroke my chest
Sure enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment