Over the spiked, latched gate
By way of concrete main road
Then on minor crooked ones
Winding through ever thicker fog,
No Talk. Whisper.
Step softly on virgin grass.
There is no light now,
Exists only what's seen in mind's eye.
Alright, it's time,
Hoodies on.
The bag.
Did you bring the cigs?
Nevermind.
Lighter.
There's no breeze tonight...
God the moon is white...
No enemies in sight,
Alright, yeeeah=]
Damn this shit is tight.
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