if leaves are falling,
down on the ground,
i hear you calling…
i feel the sound…
days keep pasing by,
feeling deep inside,
and even if you try,
you stay alive for,
a door in skies of more.
and in your spit…
you open it…
shit. shit.shit..
feel a free mind of yours
even if it boors it is a
hell out of doors.
cnc for
aldous huxley
