Windows blow in like ten thousand ice floes upon the snowy quarters.
"Remember when I told you I was sober? Well, I lied... I got drunk with the devil this night. I was asleep when you came, yea baby, I was past out when you arrived..."
Under the tall rife buildings, we are waiting for the end. Under the raindrops marching across our shoulders, we are waiting for the end. We´re all waiting for the end. Under the tree of all atrophies we are calling for the end. The sidewalkers are porting onto the streets. They are chanting for the end. "Milady, why are you still here? We are moving towards the rails in the west to outcry the scavenge." For the city is blindfolded walking across the oblique streets. The world is the burning trees. Wandering through the backstop of hills, this mechanical corner flees for the need. we go to-and-fro on reels spreading for a mile or two. "I say, baby, the day is black as night... the day is darkling." This is a lost town.
"Hist!" -The salesman says to the crowd. "We´ve got the best whiskey in town!"
The veteran sprawled right next to the bottle. He makes an indent full of civil, placed a little book on the bar, and asked for a round.
"Goodnight, dear, goodbye... sleep your last. Along with the devil we shake hands, encroach upon the last steps in this wasteland. And we carry on and on and on... We´re all falling down... down-and-out. The end won´t wait forever, you know... over and out. It´s drowning in every lake, yeah, our glassy faces are drowning in every lake in town. For we are the mislaid town."
With a glass half-empty of rum he said; "Take me for a second ride, my friend."
From the other end of the aircrash.
"Marvin! My old pal. I got shot at the tavern the other day, and the gentle breeze still comes for a visit. Yea, by every hour it knocks on the sores. It knocks on the doors... and prays for a pillow, the bloody sheets from the hospitals. He stole a blanket last week, and got away. There´s no bill for this pain. Oh, no. The dime is all yours."
The day was only few minutes old when it got killed. From the shotgun it received a message... "Over and out."
"I drank into blackout last night, what a railroad... what a drive. We retrospected at the mickey finn... all this alcohol, all the black eyes. And I can still breathe the smoke from the disorderly house..."
Was it worth it?
"Hell, yeah!"
Under the tall rife buildings, we are waiting for the end. Under the raindrops marching across our shoulders, we are waiting for the end. We´re all waiting for the end. Under the tree of all atrophies we are calling for the end. The sidewalkers are porting onto the streets. They are chanting for the end. "Milady, why are you still here? We are moving towards the rails in the west to outcry the scavenge." For the city is blindfolded walking across the oblique streets. The world is the burning trees. Wandering through the backstop of hills, this mechanical corner flees for the need. we go to-and-fro on reels spreading for a mile or two. "I say, baby, the day is black as night... the day is darkling." This is a lost town.
"Hist!" -The salesman says to the crowd. "We´ve got the best whiskey in town!"
The veteran sprawled right next to the bottle. He makes an indent full of civil, placed a little book on the bar, and asked for a round.
"Goodnight, dear, goodbye... sleep your last. Along with the devil we shake hands, encroach upon the last steps in this wasteland. And we carry on and on and on... We´re all falling down... down-and-out. The end won´t wait forever, you know... over and out. It´s drowning in every lake, yeah, our glassy faces are drowning in every lake in town. For we are the mislaid town."
With a glass half-empty of rum he said; "Take me for a second ride, my friend."
From the other end of the aircrash.
"Marvin! My old pal. I got shot at the tavern the other day, and the gentle breeze still comes for a visit. Yea, by every hour it knocks on the sores. It knocks on the doors... and prays for a pillow, the bloody sheets from the hospitals. He stole a blanket last week, and got away. There´s no bill for this pain. Oh, no. The dime is all yours."
The day was only few minutes old when it got killed. From the shotgun it received a message... "Over and out."
"I drank into blackout last night, what a railroad... what a drive. We retrospected at the mickey finn... all this alcohol, all the black eyes. And I can still breathe the smoke from the disorderly house..."
Was it worth it?
"Hell, yeah!"