Wednesday 20 March 2019


Yeah, well, you're sick
But are you as sick as the sun?
They said the light
Was a trick of the gun
Oh, you can take your bullets
Wash them down with wine
Ishka's whiskey
Miss me or the vine?
She was sleeping by design
Horror for the shine
Love's true mercy
Now we're sick of all the cock-back
And the way you rack the slide
Love, or priapism?
A kiss beyond the blind 

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