Jalapeno Overtoure

Switchblade Paradise and waiting under the same moon, hiding from the same sun. The rest is gesture. Some killer bees attacking the ones in need. reasonable lectures, so match some steer their heart away. The lonely vision of smoking oxygen. A leisure denial, a warmth of home. a warmth of shoes. feet. Jack - Half Jack . Still to soon for jogging, rather late for not having a name. The blue speaking mouth asks for permission to breath. Like a drowning in the sales of endless marauders call. In the morning, under the shades or life in your own desperate ways. I lean next to autumns free tentative grape fruit wine distraction. never kicking cans, living in affliction. Care Scare and Cars of Avalon. Mist in the Field of Knightly dressed horses. I moon and paper weight judge the clear song to after, taste the mellow Kepler ring in the heart of someone. I dress these words in spite of rain, in the cloth that holds the mirror shines away. Not a clarity moment. Not one that can save your life. Just a huge selection of life's endless paramount affair. I lend these Freudian glasses to the one who feels free as a host. To see a world river breathing, to keep oxygen good at all cost. The wine, the drops, the time it takes, to dream of the wood that ships are made. Of a white line wind on a blue marine sea. of no nations or of empty chairs. blue like liquor for drinks. go the the previous page. youll see what Im trying to do!