I went out to the edge of town where the city dump is a hole in the ground. Unlocked my head, opened my mind, filled it up with anything I could find. Walking out down the street, coughing garbage as I try to speak. I cannot say what needs to be said, I ain’t no better than the living dead. Open the door, let it in. Feel the touch of the birth of sin. Her sweet song fades to a darker kind, unclean echoes screaming in my mind. Down and out where the sidewalk ends, broken promises, forgotten amends. What has brought me to this place? I’ave fallen short, but not from grace. [[Category:Crashdog]]

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.