I think he makes me forget
That I hate my imaginary friend
The one whose name lurks on your lips in prayer
And hangs above your dinner plate
Christening it with some other dimensional vitamin
In the name of thin words
Blind men built like blimps full of holocausts
Yes them, would be
Coating the stars in blood
Calling it evolution
Irony is God's smile
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
I think he makes me forget
That I hate my imaginary friend
The one whose name lurks on your lips in prayer
And hangs above your dinner plate
Christening it with some other dimensional vitamin
In the name of thin words
Blind men built like blimps full of holocausts
Yes them, would be
Coating the stars in blood
Calling it evolution
Irony is God's smile
