Dying three-hundred and sixty five deaths still wasn't enough... to let you count the angels (your:my love). would you like five seconds in my head? maybe, maybe not... would you like five seconds in your soul? perhaps...i think you should... pull me down from the cross today, stick me in a flowerpot, throw some word-death at me with laughter and tears, tell mom i was a sad-pregnancy (with ideas) make me a hitler window to reek in... make sure fifteen kids across life know i was a dirty colour... stick me in a cave, put your genitals in my words... do something with the weather to make my godseason disappear. its snowing all corpses and quiet. listen..to the horror...(silence).