The same repeated, same repeated, same repeated rhythm,
tunes as sweet as desperately needing a piss,
the harmony of flies,
the colour of lies,
lyrics too simple for nursery heads.
It must be Christmas.
arts \ ego
books ○ CD ○ posters ○ prints ○ t & c ○ view cart
about ○ contact ○ log ○ map ○ rss
© 1978–2017 dylan harris