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I think I've become like one of the others
I think I've become like one of the others
I think I've become like one of the others
There was a frail syrup dripping off
His lap danced lapel, punctuated by her
Decrepit prowl she washed down the hatching
Gizzard soft as a mane of needles
His orifice icicles hemmoraged
By combing her torso to a pile
Perspired the trophy shelves made room for his collapse
She was a mink handjob in sarcophagus heels
Bring me to my knees
Read the sharpened lines
All my arms, bled me blind
Faucet leaks in shadows
Spilling from morgue lancet
Caressed your fontanelle
HATA BİLDİR
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