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Description
y}hy, o why, through whimper slash gloom, merrily swing sing spin dazzling sights o' mines, thy, eyes, thigh, jaws and flaws o old{albion , o h - h pour despair, arsenic mineral bottled good old despair, tilt of war glasses{slash cups, o drink drink, for i did see, the sweet gestures of orchestral giggles, quiet nightwishing memories, and long lost forgotten piles of bones and tones and moans.

kingdom grease kick sweep, tick, tickle / mist, comes to living straight and narrow, again -gain, g-an gun, more more time, freedom fortress, {stays, rests, i have drunk, drunk, what keeps me together, holding up gloom slash diseased dear fears deep down in this heart so ever apart, i am a poor clown, a sad tart's frozen frown, yr nymphette, not anyone's beloved, the world's adored ignored abused dreary weary hussy from the not so utopian arcady; i gag, swallows strict constellations, orpheu's music held within my tumbling crumbling hands, does not reach my widowed soul; shall i be born from the ash-ash-es like the firebird ? small little perky feathers hanging from brittle stained and unremarkable mythology-like collarbones, described as the muses fallen into Hades' brut clutching arms... my detached head tells { me i am to fall out of love with the world, i am. it's ch-ch-changing.

Description
y}hy, o why, through whimper slash gloom, merrily swing sing spin dazzling sights o' mines, thy, eyes, thigh, jaws and flaws o old{albion , o h - h pour despair, arsenic mineral bottled good old despair, tilt of war glasses{slash cups, o drink drink, for i did see, the sweet gestures of orchestral giggles, quiet nightwishing memories, and long lost forgotten piles of bones and tones and moans.

kingdom grease kick sweep, tick, tickle / mist, comes to living straight and narrow, again -gain, g-an gun, more more time, freedom fortress, {stays, rests, i have drunk, drunk, what keeps me together, holding up gloom slash diseased dear fears deep down in this heart so ever apart, i am a poor clown, a sad tart's frozen frown, yr nymphette, not anyone's beloved, the world's adored ignored abused dreary weary hussy from the not so utopian arcady; i gag, swallows strict constellations, orpheu's music held within my tumbling crumbling hands, does not reach my widowed soul; shall i be born from the ash-ash-es like the firebird ? small little perky feathers hanging from brittle stained and unremarkable mythology-like collarbones, described as the muses fallen into Hades' brut clutching arms... my detached head tells { me i am to fall out of love with the world, i am. it's ch-ch-changing.