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- apache death
Cold metal, hard lead.
Kneeling to the cargo that
Having chance mate you can't forget
My big bluff baby, my middle finger-cross.
My nixed. My 86'ed.
My late great loss.
I pulled the plug on our suicide booth |
to end up the decade chase|
- lost lovers
Cough up your money.
Bi-curious husbands, a seven-year itches.
A nip and a tuck. You'll have me in stitches.
I can't feel a thing, means the anesthesia is working.
I'm your ultrasound dead giveaway.
Caught in arrhythmia drift.