tirsdag den 8. november 2011













DIE.

I’m not
this sick
on sundays

I can’t move
my finger’s cold
as the moon

I better go back
to where
I came from

I put you
in a sack
all bones cracked

I die
on the floor
cry forever more

I should lie
borrow some
bye bye baby

I steal you
nothing changed
nothing planned
















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