Visitant Machine

Life Sweet.

Fueling the stairwell seeking behavior of secret vigilantes

A mouthful of infectious desire

Hello expiry date

Where’s your brain?

Busy cocking the gun

The devil waits, smiling

He’ll pull the trigger

Not it, nose goes and other disclaimers

These ancient skies ain’t never seen anything like this

So they sit helplessly as the sun turns off, pray their winter coats were made for this

Fucking with gunfire, don’t stand next to me.

Hold tight. Wait ‘til the party’s over

You cry like….

I suppose we can’t all be Woody Harrelson

What are you afraid of? 

Pues, sic vita. It won’t be long. Yeah.