Wild Blood Pressure Swings

quiet and warm

   
   
   
  flashes I'm going to mix with alcohol,  
 
  salt residues and high doses of fiction.  
 
  I have faith, I have the intuition,  
 
  I have the old throne of a king  
 
  and now I'm just a buffoon.  
 
  And a broken mirror on the wall  
 
  breaks into pieces  
 
  skin where  
 
  hid all that heat.  
 
  And the actress knows  
 
  what to do,  
 
  strips and understand who he was,  
 
  bitch wearing today ...  
 
  
  
 
  And I think that all goes well,  
 
  all goes well, all is well,  
 
  that poison is the light and shade my cache.  
 
  And yet the charade smells like honey,  
 
  mix the nectar with the sting  
 
  fleeing from you and is not threaded,  
 
  I've got the part.  
 
  And the actress makes him believe,  
 
  strips and understand who he was,  
 
  today wears the king bitch ...  
 
  
  
 
  And the actress does a good paper,  
 
  today wears the king bitch,  
 
  today wears the king bitch,  
 
  and nobody believes him nobody believes,  
 
  and no one believes him, nobody believes,  
 
  and no one believes him, nobody believes,  
 
  and no one believes him, no one believes ...