Changes

Skin Of A Drum (view source)

3 bytes added , 18:39, 22 November 2007

Sitting in this room, on wooden bench, waiting for Joi to call.

And I suffer here alone, Lord. Perturbed by my every thought. How I’ve tried to strip them to the bone.

I’ve struggled and I’ve fought. Every jealous warped intention, smuggled, sewn into my genes.

Every hidden mongrel tendency exploiting me in me.

31

edits