DRAG ME
Listless, drag me. My dead body can no
longer waver between the two poles of
Life and Death - and it all fell to nothing
anyway. Stars, constellations, elevators,
constipation, circulation, imprecation,
evolution, devolution, destitution and rank
pollution - they all end in Execution, and
I don't care about a thing. Writing music,
I leave behind an odor of dissolution.
Writing words I harbor no solution.
Off, off me, gunman, cut my self
in two. I've been there so many
times before.
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