Head like a steel trap
Confabulations to the malingerers but the purpose has God written all over it.
And your pseudologia fantastica is jacking and repeating, full of mediocrity.
Oh empty vessel, tame that tongue.
Save it for his hips with your lips.
In the land of desolate dreams.
This day needs a dulling,
Time to get numb.
Don’t bother, you’re too
