Belting from my melting lungs,
Traffic cones
Are neon guns.
I babble on in Babylone.
The tower of Babel,
I tumble from.
This language a sun drifting down;
Just a rattle,
I teething on.
Belting from my melting lungs,
Traffic cones
Are neon guns.
---hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha---
1 comments:
Yeah, sounds about right, I like the refrain too!
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