pornography
It doesn't matter if we all die
Ambition in the back of a black car
In a high building there is so much to do
Going home time
A story on the radio
Something small falls out of your mouth
And we laugh
A prayer for something better
A prayer
For something better
It feels like a hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
A hundred years
One hundred years
posted by Vinqo Denken at 2:27 AM
3 Comments:
a heart is in the mode of confessing
it has been taxed by lovers
everything is too old to be anything less
a heart is a hungry hunter
it procedes while it deceives
every lie is on the skin as is every truth
the surface reveals
we are such complementary hearts
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