The second and deeper life which evinces in the humdrum mundanity the sorcerous prices, that reveal the doors and paths to glittering Vanir of the past.

Muting Last Christmas

Doing pollutants, getting mutated, blasting Liszt

This is it, doing sixty six on the A6 just for symmetry

Magick in the little moments

Glyphs on the macadam when I’m doing donuts

I’m not wearing lifts it’s just that I’m not done growing up

Moment to myself, came around to the idea of no more showing up

Except for myself; I was gonna back myself until cheddar or a cell.

Beller, that’s a cell, to a seller wanting to sell

Been there and back, from Hell, no Johnny Depp

Did a spell now I’m casting spells, Jesus Wept

Spraying D&G just to mask the smells

Dust everywhere so swept before I left.

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