Send them on their way. Send them on their way.
Bubbled. Bagged. Packed and DONE.
Wanderers dispatched inside within Tornadoes, Blizzards, Hurricanes, Earthquakes and Mudslides.
Blitzed with Noise from both within and without.
Journeyman. Journeyman! When will I see the light of day?
Journeyman! Journeyman! Where will I be?
Yet another night in a dingy dirty flea bag motel. Located in still another decrepit long forgotten Fly by night by the hour on the
outskirts greasy spoon dive backwater SROs. Dirty needles and used condoms litter the floors making pathways to dodgy stairwells.
Trains running backwards and upside down.
Residents fixed in place. Darkness of days. Cosmic inversions. Moonless of nights.
Mutilated People have mutilated dreams.
Backhanded compliments seeking FORGIVENESS while repeating their sinful insults over and again. Feigning confused innocence so transparent I see the smirk on your face. Demons wearing Angels Wings.
Trust broken. Friendship never was.