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[Frosty da snowman]

riding shotgun on some strange bastards imagery trip
the way my midnight always begins
let me lay the scene for you

four white walls
futon, blanket, pillows, and a closet door
what other backdrop would you need

the midget dreams always come with a rush
sitting cross-legged
naked and sprung

A death dealers speaking
freaking, and rhyming
to the alpha waves want

images flow
something like a moon Ice chalice
diamond vapors trails crisping the air

dammed little satyrs
prancing, dancing, fluting the corners
wine sprayers in rare form

sexy little nymphs
ceiling tormenters
lovers in every name but touch

my twelve side night
my two-eyed abyss
Nietzsche has left the building