Nicotine Dreams
white violin rain cancer they spin on stool of sawdust demonic dancer inkblot of love in the shape of beakless dove what be you dream of cry tear of satire in the womb you be a liar sit snake in stack of briar you've get the key why do n't you try'er there's a callus on your palm from tap tap tap at cool com willpower ha you know it be go before you even know what you be run from