I sweet talk to a wishing well, truth or lies, even I can’t tell
My childhood bites, it cut my teeth;
Grounded and pounded like agency beef.
Said goodbye to a vanishing world, did a savage dance with a native girl.
Flashes and chills, it’s a strange sensation
Started from scratch it’s a skilled creation.

Head hurts but it could be worse, I wake up in the morning and it’s
"good night, nurse"
pulled from the warmth of the womb, slapped then cursed
it’s a fine line and it’s ill rehearsed.

It’s a wonderful life filled with terrible things, beautiful cripples who rip off our wings as we silently suffer their arrows & slings, desecrate, suffocate as it smothers and clings.
Brain slowly melting like butter on toast, I use it the least when I need it the most
Martians & cretins, with numbers in millions, they slither and slide seeming rather reptilian.
Love lies and it goes like this, I will garnish your body with my spastic kiss.
Lost my life when I lost control, it’s a fine line, but it’s not my own…

It steals you away with a madness at night, burns through your soul, this acetylene knife.
Takes away all the things that I once took for granted, ravaged my cage as I raged and I ranted.
As loud as the silence inside my head, should have run for the hills, took cover
instead now I live in the streets and the whole world’s my home.
It’s a hard life, and it’s getting old…

Still taking a thrashing with gnashing of teeth, a healthy disguise, a sick underneath. My head is still ringing, better answer the phone
It’s a timeline, I put it on hold.

You can be a go-getter or get it to go, from the firestorms above to the hellstrom below. We can burn and return to the scene of the crime, it’s a fine line, it gets finer with time…

I believed, was deceived, bought into this disease. You can **** it & sell it, or will it to me. Sainted babies paint rattles, then fall out of trees. Legs dissolving, devolving, return to the seas.
So show that you know me, then ******* to bits. Re-assemble the parts and see where they fit. I got holes in the soles of my shoes from a lifetime spent running away, gunning for the fine line.

Left my guts in your gutter, my brain on your stairs. Lost my nerve in your universe, now I don’t dare. I could live like a king in your starvation zone, or I could be Zeus in the ghettos of Rome.
Ignoble and cruel, indisposed disposition. Sue yourself lawyer, heal thyself physician. Jesus died for the sins for which we still atone, it’s a fine line, but it’s not my own…