>My smoke, my butane
>My boots, my headphones, my medicated noose
>My deadroom, my Schwartzwald hat, my Mac
>My macaque skull, my lysergic stash
>Empty streets at night, my bike
>Apartment sink filled with dry ice
>Condemned tenement, brandished rail spike
>Disturb in flat noir and stale white
>Grey cloud curled around my bearded compound like boa
>One of two thunderbolt we ain't broke on tour
>Concrète antique trapdoor twenty-four
>Spots to get that get right
>When I gotta get right some more
>Type of get right I can't afford
>I covet these things more than any living
>I've never been
