Don't look at me now, i'm not ready and there's nothing to say.
Another hour in this pale skin, electric suit and maybe. just maybe. i'll have the means to show you who it is you're facing day after day in the cauldron. the pit. the hell of finding a voice that reads the same to loons as liars and lovers who just need to hear that everything will be okay when it all comes rolling in.
To rise against this madness with the pride of knowing that just at your neck are millions cut in the same dreaded tie and gamble that if they only closed their eyes they'd do just fine.
Suited up in ice.
And lying formless the fortune that came and kissed their anybody, anywhere, anytime like the present. to dine in the courtesy of cocksuckers and queens as if to assure everything would just be.
As it is.
Even if the company doesn't give a shit.
The temple expands. the knife tightens the wound in my hand and i'd promise her anything if i could just stand.