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.
books ○ events ○ terms ○ view cart •
contact ○ content ○ home ○ log ○ map ○ rss
a dylan harris, his arts \ ego ○
© 1978–2016 dylan harris
[ the open directory project ]