Seven crows eating road ****, backdrop a rest stop. This is either a nightmare or my drive to work. And then there's cold glass and yellow latency, the heat turned up.
And just kidding, it isn't hidden - it's in my hair, the giant suckerfish, arranged like a headband - it's sick, this sizzlepop bad dream. Kind of sick. But really, just kidding, like the clown wearing a bowtie and selling catatonia down at the morbid sequin.