In city br/>I don't want my scores returned to him
Neither my lottery nor my passport
But I want his lasers back
With my ashes and my dust res
And I wish she would flush the toilet
So that my guts and my brain
Finally become light again
Go back to the sea
br/>I will come back like an old junkie
To collapse in your alchemy
Delirium chromatic visions
No-limit ethyl love
I I will come like an old outcast
Tear me apart in your karma
Find our androgynous hands
In your benzédrine-colored zone
I will come and stare your warmth
In the room with the fan
Where your shadows suck the lost
Between two crates of STP
I will come and lick you the glands
In the tenderness of a no man's land
And play you the harmonica
On a coma bottle opener
I will come back to enjoy under your volcano ,
Shuffle our cards with the wind
I will come back to tax your memory
In the night of the last hope
I will come back to collect our childhood
Murdered by dementia
And put dark glasses on him
The blues are at the end of the corridor
The blues are at the end of the corridor
I will come back to taunt your gods
Disguised as a fire thief
And die of one last love
The liver eaten by your vultures

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