Comedy coming back from the war. I was a camera.
I was a preacher.
Comedy is the blood in your mouth. not a preacher no more
sound against sound / time against time / let it leave . don’t know how to make it right by you
Comedy is embraceable void. bar shadows woven in nerve end string. the absence of faith is a chemical affliction & I’m not your slave anymore .
sound against sound/ a lie to yourself/ let it leave/ don’t know how to make it right by you
Comedy is beginning-less time wrapped in newspaper like nothing is wrong. isolation, everything seems human but it’s not. It is not . It is not . It is not
are you my enemy / made to make you less alone / are you my enemy / Are you my enemy / made to make you less alone / are you my enemy / are you my enemy
