I'm a snail, my trail has just dissolved in glass.
I'm a snail, my trail has just dissolved in glass, in glass, in glass...
I'm a rip on glass the temple could not bypass.
I'm the temple, I bear a gunpowder check-tick.
I am the powder magazine mid rum and fuss,
I'm an empty bottle, and that's called mechanics.
I'm a snail, this is my sun-dropped silhouette,
Just a silhouette, I know my place and span it.
I am the place on which a stamp of lilac ink is set,
I'm a branch by the yard fence, and that's called mechanics.
Night, and to blame
mercury flame,
deep space is hot, humid and shining.
Make for the day's
sunlight and pain,
that is the gift I am designing.
I'm a snail, my trail has just been lost in grass.
I am soccer field grass, the game is stormy,
Crowded to the brink, I send the sky a loud bass,
that's my style, my law Newtonian, (+1)
Night, and to blame
mercury flame,
deep space is hot, humid and shining.
Make for the day's
sunlight and pain,
that is the gift I am designing.
And, more to add, diamond dust,
cinder from skies, stamp albums' flare.
Make for the day's flair and lust,
that is the gift I am preparing!
Original: altwall.net/texts.php?show=tequilajazzz&number=39917
Original/audio: music.yandex.ru/album/58906/track/549250
Original/video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXjFr4VO3-o
Original/video/live: www.youtube.com/watch?v=5950LTFC3HI