'No, no, thank you very much Mr Moretti!
Yeh everythings fine.
oh that, oh its nothing,
wait till you see what happened to my friend Jester.
Uh okay i gotta go and thanks again for giving it to me in fifties'
She always thought it better to linger with the dusk, to breathe in
the blue-grey opium,
the smudgy blue black air that opens the stage for night.
An ancients new day.
The ever restless, changing of positions,
transition
positions.
She realised this was nearly rehab time,
she was always getting drunk and stoned on dusk.
Then ever so quickly a sharp shard shaft of paranoid stung her, actually it more like
bit her.
Damn, it even left teeth marks.
Rose room spray, can it save the day?
The eternal question.