burning down the days, let me count the ways calling up the waste, so what the fuck the breath of the beast is haze and smog, security cameras for eyes and all winding rows of teeth growing sharper still eating the flesh of hours
cash in the cockle shells bite the copper coin and run this fiberglass wound is tearing im stealing back
a ragged gash worn smooth swollen shut and padlock held you can't go back the way you came If I could make them run I'd run them an affidavit sworn in dental floss and chicken bone, lashed together as through a storm
