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i'm climbing the half of the valley where only pesticides are needed for natural growth
waiting for the hot arctic summers
and cold sahara nights
while the balkan orchestra plays
only stopping for the cries of merchants and babies
please buy this or give me that
because natural selection really only happens
when at least one is just a plain and not a canyon.
but i guess i'll just have to wait for the tambourine
and the wails of the drummer boy
during the cold arabian winters and hot alaskan nights
wondering why there are no more parties
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fuck i'm frustrated, freaking out something fierce, would you help me? i'm hungry and i stuffer and i startle, i struggle and i stammer til i'm up to my ears in miserable quote unquote "art"
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