The Gut

Seeing through the lines
Seeking down the fires
Swimming from the Wales
Learning through production and fails
Seeing with my eyes
Looking for the ties
Seeing down the veils
Looking through corrections and hails

Seeing nothing much
Can it be the judge?
All the cold is foam
Forming big irresistible wall
Try to circulate
And matriculate/particulate
What is down there now
Looking for a piece of my dial

Good night
Good night
Good night
Good night

Flames are getting hired
You are like the dire
Facing nothing much
Having troubles farming this batch
Nothing here is small
Waking up with roam
Flying too much down
Think that there something yet to be found

Flying down the veils
Swimming through the Wales
Seeing nothing much
All that I can give can be such
Morality and some mortality
Spare the life of kings
Gut your shoulder, come with your bees

When I'm awake I feel the
Damage of my dreams and you are the host
And so I wait for my kidneys to be spared
And I wait the most
Getting deeper, womb is dark
Following the teaches of so-called Dark
Nothing is there, but I may hope
I think I'm finding children at the final fucking deepest spot of the womb

Good night
Good night
Good night
Good night
Good night
Good night
Good night
Good night

What about the dreams?
Nothing can be idled by you until you're sure you're the right one to do it
Fuck this conception
Fuck it



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