Perfoline

She perfumes herself with gasoline then hands the world a piece of flint to bring us out of that cold darkness that we brand tranquility and happiness but the explosions-the burning of flesh the release of spirit is never quite enough. She knew the truths long before she was born before pretty bows were stapled to her head before the chastity belt was nailed to her mind but we'll never get it right-right? We put gasoline in our cars and mowers snap the heads off a thousand flowers to make our lawns dance and smile pretty... Mindlessly taking the color from breathing. she perfumes herself with gasoline then hands the world a piece flint.