​Voices
The FuckTrance
This is the final
Final portrait of the artist
No integrity left or forgiveness
Dependant on the value
She bestows upon the ego
The poison reflects the ultimate narcissist
When the taste of wine has gone

Narcissist

We drink dead waters
When there are no more words left to say
Only aching terrified sods

I still taste you on my lips
And on my fingers
The taste of you inside
It was but yesterday we met in dream