Sunday, December 31, 2006


Move in a crooked rhythm
Dance on a tiled ceiling
Chained in an iron prism
Bow to a statue kneeling

Sell your soul to the devil
Buy your body from the lord
Don’t give me no medal
I just want the tip of your sword

Kiss your lips to my cheek
Bite the tongue of your people
Only the deaf hear you speak
Swinging from a church steeple


Anonymous Anonymous said...

can a prism be made of iron?...

whatever man, happy b-day sorry for the delay, I always remember after mine.

1/01/2007 12:39 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

what does the title stand for?

1/04/2007 5:08 PM  

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