?Dammit I?m mad.
Evil is a deed as I live.
God, am I reviled? I rise, my bed on a sun, I melt.
To be not one man emanating is sad. I piss.
Alas, it is so late. Who stops to help?
Man, it is hot. I?m in it. I tell.
I am not a devil. I level ?Mad Dog?.
Ah, say burning is, as a deified gulp,
In my halo of a mired rum tin.
I erase many men. Oh, to be man, a sin.
Is evil in a clam? In a trap?
No. It is open. On it I was stuck.
Rats peed on hope. Elsewhere dips a web.
Be still if I fill its ebb.
Ew, a spider? eh?
We sleep. Oh no!
Deep, stark cuts saw it in one position.
Part animal, can I live? Sin is a name.
Both, one? my names are in it.
Murder? I?m a fool.
A hymn I plug, deified as a sign in ruby ash.
A Goddam level I lived at.
On mail let it in. I?m it.
Oh, sit in ample hot spots. Oh wet!
A loss it is alas (sip). I?d assign it a name.N
ame not one bottle minus an ode by me:
?Sir, I deliver. I?m a dog?
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I?m mad.
nitraM irtemeD-