Shot Glass Night’s that Pass 


Live open  
As fast as you can.  

Leave ash,  
And less cares 
For your demands.  




                    For the Adam’s of the Slap-dicks 

 
You ain’t ever gonna win.  

I eat to drink,  
So, these hips can fuck –  
I’m the spice 
And You crave my season. 

Live all the pumps  
That propel your heart,  
And release your conscience  
For idiotic Adam,  
And his stupid fuckin’ sin.