Blind eye mines right line of site packed pictures torn withered
Loss the gloss stacked in a hurry it made my mother cry clearly
It's all that's left leftover nights caked in cigarettes
Rooms laid tombs the object is opposite of repair
Hand me down silverware called fine used in underwear
Born obtuse views made loose through loopholes and what to choose
Bad picker even worse dinner the plates serrated the meals dilapidated
My tongues wrung out and my eyes came out my ears be too near
My features are speechless twin pipes through broad day light
Calls my mind because the shine is unproven the lines I loved using
Lumps in the bedding dumb dumbs getting married watch the white wash away
Watch the children play under lightning and trees can it be a canopy
Or can I leave with permission so the decision isn't my natural intuition
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