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On the knocks. I take them slowly, on the rocks drink them swiftly, let them trickle away. Like taking a bite from the night and tasting each day like it might be some poisoned apple, grappling with this, who'd want to kiss a witch? who might be the tree from which all things will spring. On the knocks or on the rocks, over easy just to please me. Feeding the ego, a tiger on nitro' or a bird in the hedgerow? Einstein hands me a relative, a way to forget the negative. I give him a big hand for that. Catching bubbles which bubble within me, to burst on the walls of adversity where heat rises as if this life's a chimney and I am the one being smoked.
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
29 Bulldozer road
On the knocks. I take them slowly, on the rocks drink them swiftly, let them trickle away. Like taking a bite from the night and tasting each day like it might be some poisoned apple, grappling with this, who'd want to kiss a witch? who might be the tree from which all things will spring. On the knocks or on the rocks, over easy just to please me. Feeding the ego, a tiger on nitro' or a bird in the hedgerow? Einstein hands me a relative, a way to forget the negative. I give him a big hand for that. Catching bubbles which bubble within me, to burst on the walls of adversity where heat rises as if this life's a chimney and I am the one being smoked.
john-edward-smallshaw
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
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