Throat

i remember nothing while it all happens i am like the shadow on the wall of a cave with no actual light source i move similar to expectations then suprise the unsuspecting... with the gravitation of the jovian and then spiral away like a wheel that flattens a speed bump Jumping through hooks Barbed by barbarous thought process Making it out anyway The days are too stupid Filled with fijarse And seeing the makings of Seasonings As leaves fall into your hair Heir to you i feel the shell of God Surrounding me like a glad bag Around the throat Thank God Nuestra vida es muy preciosa