[Somewhere near miracle street, Pennsylvania Station]
The apocalypse is etched in his sagging eyes
More bombastically than poster-board repentance
Nostradamus lullabies quell his poetry;
His lips parched for the Blood of Christ
[Somewhere near miracle street, Pennsylvania Station]
The apocalypse is etched in his sagging eyes
More bombastically than poster-board repentance
Nostradamus lullabies quell his poetry;
His lips parched for the Blood of Christ
Love is a drug
And poison
And intoxicant
And depressant
And acid
And addiction
And euphoria