he was looking for that one with the .50 caliber gun on the roof......i saw it months ago, but cant find it now....
What's coming through is alive. What's holding up is a mirror. But what's singing songs is a snake looking to turn this piss to wine. They're both totally void of hate, but killing me just the same. The snake behind me hisses what my damage could have been. My blood before me begs meopen up my heart again. And I feel this coming over like a storm again. considerately. Venomous voice, tempts me, drains me, bleeds me, leaves me cracked and empty. Drags me down like some sweet gravity.