Oh sweet taken evil.
Kept hidden to all but self.
What are the names?
Well what have you got:
Green nature buds,
Flesh food, cocoa drains,
Tempered wish feeding jewels,
Dead music of heroes.
Well what have ya got.
Hell,,,anything but cold turkey.
Anything that flips the clip.
Puts a happy haze on this well digger.
Been called sick, diseased.
After the brief euphoria,
That ebabled wave that waits present,
Hole hearted pitch, tasty for the just.
Gives grim to the ink, right Jack.
I herd you Mr. Beat write of wine, wine, a wine
I say not being Jack,
What ya got, What have you got.
Is it to be a Artist, you must be Poe bent.
Always hungry, always Raven.
"When I get drunk, I get thirsty"
Yeah,,, Jake spill it.