It was always drilling in his brain,
_the woodpecker of the clock...
The fruit to die for:
The apple of neighbour’s bough...
Kettle quickly boils,
letting me make my coffee...
Days are sliding away in disdain,
let fall...
A freak hailstorm of
proposition, makes you...
Tunes of Glory
Where does the truth lay...
The smell of you lingers inside that very van that...
The only thing I have left of you...
so, Susie, supposed this soul
was shes to squeeze as she please...
Fluminous spectrums illustrate
Iridescent bodies in the sky...
The timbre of a crying dog burning in the...
unpleasant like unknown...
Love is the seeking of a way of life
A way that cannot be sought alone...
Gone are the days when you treated us like a...
Now we're rough like a leather...