Way too late night poem on the pain of not using the gain
It`s time again. The clean fast crazy slick deadly
cykling for choppers and logos
Tour de my whole world just got stolen by the yellow chase
No sharpness of mind or relaxed glow from the heart
Apocalyptic blindness caused by shiny legs
We talk of love (your dog, not your neighbour)
Searching for heart glow
Finding the art slow
But something was made;
there is nothing like sitting on shop at night
Several hours for one bad joke
(that I expect to see on TV tomorrow)
Meet me on the bridge between the two universes
(stolen medicine)
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