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Ishutan
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What becomes of an open wound underneath the silver bullet moon?
Bullet holes in stripping poles mean that I'm whole when all are dead inside my head.
He prides himself in taking life, to save a life or break a life with such reprise, a lull-a-bye to say goodnight a scarecrows job to show this fright to nations birds of want and waste away out side the clinic might as well become a cynic in the gathering of sinners we all are only just beginners down a path of certain doom when lights go off inside my room you all will come with me to hades where you will have your own Mercedes you can take the straight path home but please make sure your not alone in falling down to worship such a certain thing as touch I hope you come again into my room, you're always welcome, beneath the silver bullet moon. Switch-back blades dig deep into the guts of politics, where breeds the mutt of power mixed with fear and hate and want and lust and greed relating all these children like a twisted, ugly family tree with roots that feel their way far down into a place where hope is drown in quiet celebration of a new infestation of distinct evil manifest through smoke and mirrors brings children's tears of fake regret, hiding smile of secrets kept, the score to tie the game is set they now just need to redirect attention to man's most natural distraction. Pain and suffering broadcast across an unmoved plain, ratings rise and profit gained on loss and death and cold and shame... Beneath a silver bullet moon.
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060925
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