Concussions keep the time.
Open me up,
Pour the bombs inside,
Detonator on a D-chord;
Pervasive, brawling ecstasy,
We're all monsters here...
Too pissed for tone,
Too crushed for pitch,
Gaseous fury erupts
From a body in a sea
Of sweat and cigarettes.
We're all monsters here...
Vertebrae scream for relief,
But the heart hasn't had enough.
Somewhere in this
Dionysiac war lies my
Perfect tranquillity,
But we're all monsters here.














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