maandag 1 augustus 2011

My friends

I use God’s guitar
Dressed with things
That’re unapproachable for our imagination
I mean the black colored skin and the big curls on the of end it.

I’m walking trough doors, standing in an alley
Waiting for snakes wrapping around me
That made me tripping ‘cause I’m out of air
Through what I hallucinate I stand next to them.

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