Posted by Atticus on July 22, 2005, at 8:54:15
Veins flutter with whiskey angels,
Booze cherubim on the wing,
Brain aflame with brimstone candles,
Don’t want to feel a godd*mn thing.
Sweet, sweet poison, unholy waters,
For when my sins begin to sting,
And the walls are breathing hard
’Cause shredded nerves decide to sing
Delta blues slide guitar chords
So dark and shivery that they bring
An ache deep in a ragged soul
That makes church bells cease to ring.
The chalice brims with black blood,
Hosts pressed from neon and needles cling
To a tongue struck dumb and numb
At a mass where pain is king.
poster:Atticus
thread:531470
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050621/msgs/531470.html