Far to long you have suckled from the vein of my
extreme existence.
Draining vessels of gold while leaving the decay
for the crows.
Climb on and ride the old bones that have
betrayed me...free will some say.

Fear, point blank I have to break up with you. I just don't
get off on getting off anymore.
It's the real things that turn me on...like scent,
passion, fire, water, and sky. And lips, sweet succulent lips.
Bliss fills me up with absent gold and I get high...so ******* high.
Carry on.