AND THE FUNERAL PROCESION OF A THOUSAND CRIMANALS STEAL THE NIGHT . A GRAND RAPTURE AT FINGER TIPS END .
THE BOTTLE POINTED AT ME LIKE A LOADED GUN . IT IS HARDLY EBOUGH TO KNOW YOU SOBER. OVER TAKEN THE NIGHT HALLOSENATEING IN DREAMS WITH DRAWING THE TIMES OF RESONING. CONSTANLY FAILING US WOTH THE LACK OF WORDS THAT HAS DESTORYED A THOUASND IN A DAY A NIGHT A WEEK. BEHIND CHAIN LINK FENCES . ARE YOU COMEING WITH ME ? AND WHEN I LEAVE IT WILL HARDLY BE ENOUGH I'LL TURN IT INTO A PHONE CALL AND A PHOTAGRAPH I'LL TELL YOUR SELF HOW TO ESCAPE THE THINGS A CAN SHOW YOU A PROCESSION OF 1000 CRIMINALS SO TO TAKE ME AWAY