Rachael Going Up In Smoke
Open up unholy box
With no teeth and sacred bones
With a touch of soft wind
In my ears…
Sit among the crystal palms
Paint the witches with a shape...
And a taste of a smoke.
I feel fake…
Friend would tell you it's no truth
Cranks on shore ....how are you
Suffocate with young hair
Under stairs
In the middle of a sand
Shine red bulbs…all my way
Hold your light
On my face
Have you seen such thighs before?
Have you tasted…“secret joke”?
When all that’s unreal
Gives a chance to your will
With gold bird in the snow
I prepare for something more
For a monster in my bed
For a glue out of my head
For a sink of sticky blue
For a chill that runs you through
Out of mind…