We starve, look at one another, short of breath. Walking proudly in our winter coats. Wearing smells from laboratories, safe in our dying nation. Of moving, table, fantasy. Listening for the new tone, with the free feeling of lonely too. Singing, our faces are gone, a spider web. Light is around you and in you. At some point, you'll be hearing, hea
he just goes like this: do you have a question? I have a question. is your hair real? great question ma'am. yeah. it is real, you wanna see? now what if I was bald, would you feel better? you could play Jesus. what's that? you could play Jesus. I could play Jesus? that's what's up. I would rather be on the cross right now talking to you. I'm a prof
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