This is testament. Am not sinful today. Not today, dad. Not today.
This is aftermath. Not the end, no, God damn yourself, not the end.
This is a showdown. Draw you motherfucker. Draw first, dad, you motherfucker.
This is a question. Our love is broke down on desert roads. Why?
This is commandment. Thou shalt not have me under thy ashen fingertip. That means take your fucking hands off me, this will take time, give me time, it is all I ask, may we covet some time.
This is song.
So sing.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Our Father Who Art
Posted by John D. at 8:08 PM
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