Machina. System's automatic.
Saddened by our artificial times, y'all can have it
I want natural taste, spontaneity and waste
Manual aim - lesser killing machines - more of a game
Honor! Bet they don't feel that in their bronze coils
It makes me boil like a toyless little boy
In Boyle Heights. I'm no slack jaw but on point
And I wont wane with these times, I'll take ointments
Anoint me! King of the joint creed!
Weak knees for days, weak backs, all weak me
I feel it weekly! But I won't give I'll keep free
Titanium is not my game it's Arnica and Tea Tree
Machina...
Comments
This was pretty damn interesting. And yet, nobody's spoken! Be the first!
Privacy
Copyright
Sitemap
Statistics
RSS Feed
Valid XHTML
Valid CSS
Standards
© CyberD.org 2023
Keeping the world since 2004.
© CyberD.org 2023
Keeping the world since 2004.
The Comment Form