#ehrl

All I'd want from god, is to kiss his red hand, look in his eyes and spit on his face. I've now become, a weight on the scales a whale to the sea, a ghost to the home. I'd want from god, a sleep with no wake. Ironic and true and gaze to the north.

Death is my holiday, black is the shade of my curtain, draped on the wood of my stage. Laid under tree and revered by no man, under the cross and the Queen. Black is the shade of my curtain, draped on the wood of my stage, drank til we sung and we sung til it hurt, death is my holiday.