From Battersea to the top of Kuala Lumpur, smoked too much, no sex. Undergo a casting, ready to go, need punani, smoked too much, inside, never let go, always stood, there's no secret, dinner parties, dinner deals, opium from Belgium, static, funky skunk, operator reads me. Soho the rest of the time, KVM on 4, good shit, XSLT to FO, free processor, results and more, shining XPath, the method does escalate. I need to score. Yazumi won't stay forever with me. My bed is empty, they all move, my hair is gray, my shirt is black, never let go.
Sleeps all day, wakes up at night. Silence. I'll take some vacation but i don't know where to go. I lack motivation and imagination for everything. I turn out to be a transformator, a bit mover. Minor strokes, the pain that matters, the silence inside. Tourorism. Let her go don't question her. Queen of sorrows, mobile target, ain't no victim, i'm just driftin'.
Sleepful days, probability of vacations. Refuge in pills or i'll resign. I'll try to keep dough in order to travel away. The outside. FOP is the machine. The other side, slide inner unknown, decypher the affair, kingdom takes a door and a key, as fat as i get, lemon pie. Data miners as Ossan Hassan, there must be patterns, the kalif needs mo'kiff, wax and plastic, beg no trouble to the decoy, latté near the Opera, give out your gun.
Chemical dawn, hospital down, were we ever lusting after the other ? The empire rises after the kingdom but there's no tear anear. Revengers fall short of desire, or was iron casted in illumini padre. I fell something under your skirt, never before ever fell. Grounderneath the patio, sex'n'guts and ratios. Loaded on maniacs, tripolar rain. Makes a mean seem true.
No echo in amerika and my iranian buddies are muted by some sort of worm. I'll move to Korea when the tide is right. I'm still infatuated by Lemon but i keep it silent because she denies me the kingdom. Move north, travel south, let them in laughter aftermath bypath because the method does escalates. I wank with my memories of what should have happend at the snowy airport or the parisian island. If you read me, say decoy. So many girls have names starting with an A. Name the place, the system and the language.
When the heart has dried out and the soul is dead long ago if it ever was. I'd commit right now if i had the chance. I hate my flesh'n'fat. The fact is i've never searched for a job nor beg for money, because these things don't matter to my system. Head-hunters pass me by. Bounty hunter, name the system and the transport. Models defaced. I'm tired of that style, a design for life, a template for socialism, a mere meme. Come on hold my hand.
The catholic kids used to call me jesus. I was unconcious but i could score by then. I'm now the decoy dummy dumb agent. Who can't you trust ? I'm carbonized by the union. I lost the signal ages ago.
Got yourself a gun and a bible. My turf is being a bit mover. I don't create anything but defining recycling process, so be XSL Transformations. Turns out the contemplation of numbers finally pays off. Years before a terminal and still so much to learn. It's all part of a plan, a slave sequence, a blank film. The chronic of the method, so long as we cut.
The mystery of jets, in space, in foolish means. I grabbed the nice bag of turkish cocaine, uncut frame, the widest. Camp Nou in perspective. All the book are red, infiltrated in Nepal, dressed in napalm and cobalt, we let it flow. Nor the colour of the hair, nor the size of the babylons, nor the account in the karma bank, nor the faith.
The lyrics, minor stroke, the angels, the remote. One plate is broken but'll be replaced for free when i was ready to kill another aloof to invest in vision. Chelsea burn. I woke up ten times. A glance in her half of the desk, she's married so won't i care. Invasion of the dancefloor, one too many X and another spliff behind bars and strings.