Post by Window 8P Lickr on Aug 16, 2010 11:55:05 GMT -5
Good to hear. My mic's busted, but I've got it on my list of things to get when I get my paycheck.
Fading in and out and I can remember mother telling me, "Home is where the heart is," but my heart has long been black. Coming to the end of my road, but I never wanted it like this. The sound of gun fire so loud and rapid, but it seems to be so quiet around me. I reach down and reload my ticket home. The taste of cold steel on my lips, and a second later silence fills the January air.
