| HATS OFF! TO THE MADMAN, WE DRINK HIS WINE; THE FINEST BLEND OF BRAINS, ONLY THE RICHEST, TWISTED LIES... DRENCHING ME QUENCHING THE THIRST SO HUMAN AND PRIMAL FOR A REASON TO BURST AND THINK LIKE AN ANIMAL HUNTING ME. MISCHIEVOUS SPIRITS AS IMPS IN DISGUISE BUZZ �ROUND MY MIND AS WHISPERING FLIES DEAFENING ME. BUILDING THE FURY AND CLOSING MY EYES SWALLOWING THE SPIRIT, BUT NEVER THE PRIDE. BLINDING ME. POINTING LITTLE FINGERS IN THE MOUTHS OF STRANGERS TWISTING, TURNING, SIZZLING AND BURNING IN THEIR CRY SCORCHING ME. HYPNOTIZING CHARMS SO SWEET AND IMPURE DANCING TO THE LYRES OF LIARS TO ENTICE AND TO LURE ENCHANTING ME. TO THESE I CONFIDE THESE WHISPERING TINY FLIES THAT I ALWAYS SEEM TO FIND BITING ME |
| Wine of flies |
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