BrokenNeckBoy
07-19-2001, 04:47 PM
Eight balding men standing in line with themselves
their backs against coarse demolition sky
poking the numerous dry spots between their legs
and sighing in trickling hoarse voices
their fingers tattooed with the words TWENTY THREE SKIDOO
illuminati for 'we are probably better than you
with our twenty-three numbers'
and everyday when they lick eachothers secret society triggers
they shudder and move closer to one another
without shaking an atrophied muscle and
without grinding a crumbling stone foot or dripping hard hips into the cracked dirt and
without shaking dangling hands with any other hot wet palms and
without crowding around a freight train electrical socket but
with their eight copper cervixes in hand and
without being glued to the sparkling inner walls of a huge metal uterus.
yeah.
their backs against coarse demolition sky
poking the numerous dry spots between their legs
and sighing in trickling hoarse voices
their fingers tattooed with the words TWENTY THREE SKIDOO
illuminati for 'we are probably better than you
with our twenty-three numbers'
and everyday when they lick eachothers secret society triggers
they shudder and move closer to one another
without shaking an atrophied muscle and
without grinding a crumbling stone foot or dripping hard hips into the cracked dirt and
without shaking dangling hands with any other hot wet palms and
without crowding around a freight train electrical socket but
with their eight copper cervixes in hand and
without being glued to the sparkling inner walls of a huge metal uterus.
yeah.