Things are flung about,
My brain has become a house.
Home to homeless things.
Rainwater and blue;
Old magazines, oil paints.
Stuffed into my head.
My mind is being built
From a madman's paint palette.
Thank the old master.
My brain has become a house.
Home to homeless things.
Rainwater and blue;
Old magazines, oil paints.
Stuffed into my head.
My mind is being built
From a madman's paint palette.
Thank the old master.
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