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• Artiste: Saintseneca
• Titre: Blood Drawing
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When I sight a cliche of a free life I don’t contend that it comes with no price. Dry my blood like fleas and head lice, Draw it in blood make it burn white in black light. I was wrong. Always wrong. No one ever says to you, You can’t complain about these things And even if we found our way, Our way was found it was not made. I would give up now. Just lay it down and kick the crown. Breaking all my toes, you could give it away but no one would know. There lies my bed. Incriminated. Now lie in the wreck I created. In torrents we spin my tornado like friend, built homes that we obliterated.