I Am The Mystery ManI don't know what I'm doing anymore, any more or less? Moral less like the hawk without no sense of direction, flapping to a destination unknown, the brain like a sponge, a sponge stepped on too many times, I can't find the time, to rhyme with the poetry because the poetry, Poetry. The words we say when we can't say them but bleed every day in a blood of our own blood, oh oh call the gods, an angel has committed a irrational suicide. A may way too late baby cakes, you can't shake off your dirt, if your sunset is drenched,I Am The Mystery Man
in plates,&n
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Proud Administrator of *Unframed-Nature , *TheOutdoorziez , and ~RootStock
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Proud Administrator of *Unframed-Nature , *TheOutdoorziez , and ~RootStock
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