AM FM.
You will wake up in the morning, as usual, with annoyance.
Am Fm AM.
Strong shy tea on an empty stomach.
Indated sleep is deliciously sweet.
Unusualness in ordinary things.
You dress up, drove to the subway, to work,
Small rain procotted under the nose,
Dragging your portfolio, boring to vomiting,
As an eternal hanging diarrhea.
Transition pedestrian - ordinary business.
But today - not like yesterday.
You will go to the green, of course, boldly,
Care Susk in the attic.
Maybe he will be drunk may be distracted
On a poster, on fire, on a blowjob,
Maybe he is not barking at all -
In circumstances, there is no importance.
BM F # M
For a moment soared into the rednevial sky,
We break about dirty asphalt.
He will leave soon, as if he was not here,
Without some kind of look back.
This God will call your sinful soul,
Bursting your sinful flesh.
And the guts from the peritoneum will be climbing out
Because the Lord wants so much.
You still live fifty-three seconds,
That is spike, then morning arm.
Not having time to realize, the death of the inlet is implicit,
Do not find the strength to scream.
HM GM.
In a puddle of blood, urine and in the wreckage of bones,
On asphalt breaking face
You will be ribs, driven into the heart, crunch,
Blooming hard lead.
Corring in wild torments of animal and blindly
Broken by strange fate
You will fade here so idiotic ridiculous,
Without realizing what happened to you.
BM G # F #