i was enjoying the calmness of lonely night
i was celebrating human imagination
the mind vehicle passed the highway of madness
the bitches walking around with their hanging breast
my coward soul silently giggles and eat the bread

my ashtray with full of ashes
there's no word left for my pages
my body clock has reached the stage
but the story of walkers on the edge
is not yet over, story of a rolling egg
rolling from trough to crest

my dry throat cried for a gulp of water
and the trembling hands for the last drag
my feelings like bleeding of a teenage girl
never stop outpouring

the brimming rivers are my stories
the weathy fat asses are the devils
the bitches are my angels
the children in rain are the heroes
washing away the evils of human womb
in the rain of bullets and worms

i reach where i could never be
your appreciation is accepted

every sleepless night has a story
but this one will remain incomplete
vincent's madness was famous after the gun shot
i'm gonna sleep let's see what happen
but It's just a celebration of human imagination

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