Music burns my shins.
She is looking alone in Christmas light.

Red and Green.

White or Black?
The blackest liquid laying in my cup
And the only way you to see the future
Is through yr
Common sense.
That’s what they tell me
So that’s what I say…
And the only body that can really SAY a thing
Is home sick
ANYWAY.

Rats with wings
And radar
Sing
Like sailors
Out my window.
And the wind.
The Wind.
The wind, it sings
Like rats with wings,
Hammering upon my window.

Set me free from here,
But leave me.
I am the man who lived
5 times,
They say.
But the only one who can really SAY a thing
Is home, sick,
anyway…