So the air is full of kerosene
and a doomed shuttle plays Paganini’s Caprice #13
like an ice cream scream
and gone are the days of Gilgamesh,
instead hours upon hours of hourglasses of fresh
human flesh.
So the air is full of kerosene
and a doomed shuttle plays Paganini’s Caprice #13
like an ice cream scream
and gone are the days of Gilgamesh,
instead hours upon hours of hourglasses of fresh
human flesh.