Could you loan us y' shadow if only for a few hours, under some informal shady lease ? As I was born without 1 - despite not being a vampire, I promise you'll get it all back in 1 piece ...
Art
the lord gave us poetry & cholera
Well, The Lord he gave us poetry & cholera. As certain as a sieve with big holes is a colander. & apparently that cholera's the pits, all dehydration & diarrhoea shits. & this is why I'll never be a God botherer ... author notes: some P.C shat & you can't catch it from reading this, sorry
the moral maze
Cars often pull over & ask me for directions for example 'Where's Gibblet's Lane?' & if I know I'll answer their question, to aid them on their procession out of the kindness of my heart -It's no strain or pain. However, if I haven't got a clue e.g 'Where's Garroter's Avenue?' I'll just make something up all the same. On the off-chance that I'm right, as you clever ever know it might, & either way I'll probably never see them again ...
time bollocks
Now, a stitch in time may well save 9 but we've yet no way of knowing. Beyond mere proverbs & words & crossed digits, bricked turds it could be 8 or 10 still -GET TEMPORAL SEWING ...
still mainly green
It's still mainly green here, like the contact-less eyes of a jealous monster. & the sky is mainly blue too, like a depressed & filthy joke, yet still 1 ponders how much longer ?
necroromance
Well, the love of a corpse
is completely unconditional,
albeit 1 sided
& mildly untraditional
…
& yet the kiss of a cadaver
is impossible to beat,
the conversation’s rubbish though
I’ve never heard ’em speak
…
still the telephone
https://www.youtube.com/embed/soXdnisOWCs“>http://
Well, I’m afraid that the telephone
is sadly very necessary,
despite sound progress with technology
there’s gaps in our telepathy
…
Plus pigeons have their limits
& messages in a bottle achieve shit all,
but I still look forward to the day
when my brain
is bothered by nuisance 3rd eyes
& withheld psychic calls
…
the dog’s buccolics
Back in the green a true pastoral scene, an external chapel a wish in Winter's dream ... Be it meadow, peak or bracken wherever chance & stuff may happen, the splendour shall possess & gently caress you shall be taken abacken ... By the ambrosial leaves & part-time bees the enchanting beauty, oh so serene, but when it then gets too much & you've now had enough just insert sumit like: Fuckin' obscene ...
dark weekend
Come to my shed endorse undead, you can be the 2nd member of my Saturday Satan Club. We'll paint our nails, shun nature trails & scowl with intent until the cows come down from the dales & kill us, violently, possibly, hopefully, you never know like ... Please x
ThE gIfT oF hInDsIgHt?
Every time I close my eyes all I can see is a cows arse...