Roaming spores and running sores and scorching fever. Score a pill to maybe
Ease the pain. But there’s more to come. The thunder’s in your brain, the
Lightning dances. Stars explode and spit. A foaming fit suck in a litt.
Press > but IT RISES! Bursts the ceiling, peeling clouds
And fleeing for the sun where maybe there’s just a little peace. Oh please
God… Just a little peace. A small release.
