Crawl Away
Crawl, cruel-cry, ain’t dead yet.
Cut eyes on the own eyebrows.
Truth of the up turn knife became undone.
Where you’ll go next?
Scum born streets - pleasure for the raw meat.
Crawl, cruel-cry, clown.
Crawl, cruel-cry, ain’t gonna follow shadow.
Slam onto the break wall;
Love good meal but forgot how to swallow it.
Smell so reach that pull guts out-in.
Dear... there is no place to spit, get real.
Crawl, cruel-cry, cornered.
Crawl, cruel-cry, ain’t cowered,
... ain’t god
just keep on crawling
keep up
get smart
crawl away
don’t stop...
February 8, 1997
wrt: Andrey Prudnikov
Свидетельство о публикации №106091800415
Милана Фарери 19.09.2006 01:38 Заявить о нарушении