Saturday, 30 October 2010


Passed into middle age verses of smoke
Twisting in a soap shower
Pulling at what could of been white wings

Possibly this whole facade dies in a spotlight
Of Suburban cancer
(It's in our inheritance)
Possibly oven baked suicide

For what you'll make of it
I still decide
To pass on soft offers
I keep pushing shields
To protect a future present

Keep guessing

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