my soul coughs the crumbs of hope and disaster in the deep midnight dreamings
cuz all these sagitarius memories leave burn outlines on drawn out momoents
there's a certain shiver that runs the spine at a speed of light
and it makes the world burn like hot chrome reflection visions
makes a man speak so reckless and rapid that he blows out every apostrophe
shhh...i think i only saw one lantern in the old north church