i weep gold coined tears
that()you gather mong crum
wanting a clock of physical addiction
i tither between(tumb
ling) cause i say
‘in case i want it all’
and in all of all we never knew perfect
creation and dancing/PHYSICAL
addicition wing spit prowls inside haha
)nowhere ( so i
keep you inside a jar
and Hotel du Golf
…. of my forgotten
dreams yeah…N O T H A N K S

in the someday in the sunday
of sound of someday what’s that
sound? what’s that sound…
like a thousand gallons of
rubbing alcohol flowing through
the strip of my deranged mind
hahaha mOOn Ove iOwns mOOn
wishper less creature huge
gr()pingness

:: 09172015 ::