Despite our fears, the Seasons will keep turning;Fresh Spring will follow…
A wise cat sits on the wall,
Cocaine-Betaine-Heroin crashes the streets;your high feeds off people, what a loss, crass faced blushed cheeks,your wisdom doesn’t shout…
No madman is a god,Yet by our leave,They have been emperor,Ensconced in syphilitic splendorOn a mountain of bones.