atop of your mirror
the sinister sound
of crystalline powder,
whispers maniacal cackles
as it's crushed, crackled beneath
the apathetic plastic card,
somehow sensual
your identity, face down -
grinning
rub it in soft circles
on your favorite reflection
'Which one of your nostrils
is more open to this
sort of thing?'
the frightened boy fumbles
for his devil's dollar bill,
it's a fascist nose-nozzle
vice-vacuum,
poison-sourdough
death-demon
breathe in your
shattered fiberglass fix,
****'s as cool as ice-cold *****,
stings like a frost-bitten *****
snort, shiver -
twitch!
"(Ooh White Lines) Vision dreams of passion
(Blowin’ through my mind) and all the while I think of you
(High price) a very strange reaction
(For us to unwind) the more I see, the more I do
(Something like a phenomenon) Baby!
(Tellin your body to come along, but white lines blow away)
(Blow! Rock it! Blow!)"
Ticket to ride, white line highway
Tell all your friends, they can go my way
Pay your toll, sell your soul
-(Grandmaster Flash)