There is a compulsion, an anxiety speeding up to throat, madness shooting out from mouth, urge to accept and proudly declare, the scars to the world, pieces of me.
There is a drug made from my bones; it's yellow, red, green and blue, pouring the absolute with absoluteness of resolution.
There is destruction of self and a birth of mental sickness.
I stand before me to watch myself, whirl like a cyclone on that melody being played on those lusty white-black bars. That grotesque is my beauty.
Those blunt knives are scales on my skin, finely grating every inappropriate touch.
How fabulously I execute every crime! How modestly I demand every allegation!
It's because I'm a snake that I can not disown my venom.
But time and again I shout, time and again I scream, time and again I validate, the dark side of me.
But since it is one of the greatest luxuries, I cannot deny myself the luxury of it!
There is a drug made from my bones; it's yellow, red, green and blue, pouring the absolute with absoluteness of resolution.
There is destruction of self and a birth of mental sickness.
I stand before me to watch myself, whirl like a cyclone on that melody being played on those lusty white-black bars. That grotesque is my beauty.
Those blunt knives are scales on my skin, finely grating every inappropriate touch.
How fabulously I execute every crime! How modestly I demand every allegation!
It's because I'm a snake that I can not disown my venom.
But time and again I shout, time and again I scream, time and again I validate, the dark side of me.
But since it is one of the greatest luxuries, I cannot deny myself the luxury of it!
