(warmth radiates from steady beat)
the cold, the trance, welcome it
and the trance neongirl sings
her voice is sex
talking to make prudes
the polite one is now rude
and now we get dirty
on the clean tiles
teenagers spawn maturity
but then our revolution plays
and there's this one girl
she gooes ooh
and what she moans is what
love teenagers mosh to angst rhythm
this resides in me
this is what i feel in you
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Where scoundrels, thieves, dice players, witches, and monster-hunters go to have a drink.
Followers
About Me
- thevexingvixen
- Laundry room and neongirl. Food poet and lonester. Would make sense.
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