Million

Would that you could touch this angel in a clutch of snakes. Oh pretty, pretty, I'm aflame. So excited, so unslept. Somewhat littered, so unswept. You have to sleep before you wake. I am spilled and poured. I am peeled and cored. I am hanging from the floor. Flicker like a freak through a sleepless week in a black cell of forever. There's a point to this. A point I think I often miss. Oh clever, clever, where's your heart? You can turn a phrase until it reads a million ways. It makes no sense but it's as good as it is sad. I am sad, elated. I am segregated. There's this stitching and it's itching. All my friends are dead. Asleep in distant beds. At least these enemies stay close. Take me to the pretty ones. I want to be a pretty one. Sign me to a nice girl so she can ruin me eternally. They offered me a million bucks. All I want is a steady fuck. Oh steady, steady, where are you? Channel surf a sea of static, see the prize but you can't have it. There's something thankless in a wish fulfilled. I am thrilled and bored. I'm unskilled, adored. All of both and none of one. I would kill for more. I haven't killed before. I could set this heart on stun. Take me to the pretty ones. I want to be original. Sign me to a nice girl so I can sing her something meaningful. In my perfect world I'd be signed to a nice girl. It would cost one million kisses.