Dis nice Boize ran round interzone slipping 'sliding on wump juice - Always over dressed for the naked brunch - always bugging out powder dust our never ending trivual pursuit in tribute to Old Man Dreamer Always over dressed for the naked brunch - our astral fangs filed foraging for bullet riddled apples the fruit of head games and dead games - edens elite rewoken by the exchange of the apple a promise of the gift of godlike potential we already possesed in exchange for the detatched and crippled soul who could become so completely alone that we could learn a new sense of longing to be more than - our birthright no more ours to give than the serpent own I - see Jesus was batman ,or was that Bruce Wayne - Seven Headed Swords swept through Sixty Seven and slew the corporate mental medusa straddling Jung's mouth and with it's fresh bood we did enscribe over the LINTEL