Millions of miles, still starry-eyes inclined
We’ve been singing while the other cursed person interrupts the flow by jerking the wheel
The flame is sinking deeper than a dozen of our favourite dreams, a double dose of our insipid feelings
And all of it becomes distinctly, distantly enhanced, and I grab the other cursed personn’s manicured hand like it’s all that our last (whiskey) shot has got
Walking on upside-down waterfalls, making these faranheit mountains with the sun gilded and guided right by their jagged-edged sides nothing but marvellous molehills of their cloak’n’daggered own – won’t they ever get to playing their aced cards upon the dashboard of a mini-bar of white lies?

How every second seatbelt works wonders and appears to be like a Russian Roulette wet dream
Tableau tantalised and all of it disguised by all kinds of nothing very uncomfortable while we perish to find our minds
Uncontrollably explosive brought into limbo by individual repulsion
We’ve been bleeding and drinking ourselves dry, gin ‘n’ tonic shrinking to think for our three favourite people and it feels, it feels… It feels a little bit disturbing for the fourth thirsty person who sits living breathing and soliloquy seething with her cutthroat knees miserably intermingled at the middle where the tattooed smile loses its life for one first time

Irony never loses me
About to be mangled to a point of no going back unless of course we can push the button
Stuck on irreparable damage done
Diamonds to dust

The feeling of fear lives beneath the twisted wheel
About to be served toward our each and every next cold death – iced tall glasses of water left upon our very own slab

That’ll be the hangover from hell perhaps
About to pay out its very last tab

With flowers near our feet we eat our last words

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