Brewing nausea in my gut/ Churning a burrito wrapped with guilt/ Soon it will come out the butt/ Wiped away with a paper quilt.
Fifteen minutes before sleep, an insomniac texts himself a record of the day in 140 characters or less.
by antoni.us
Brewing nausea in my gut/ Churning a burrito wrapped with guilt/ Soon it will come out the butt/ Wiped away with a paper quilt.
