36
what's o'clock
And so, a fig for rotting carcasses!
Waiter, bring me a bottle of Lachrima Christi,
And mind you don't break the seal.
Your health, my highly unsuccessful confrère,
Rocking your seed-bells while I drift to ashes.
The future is the future, therefore—
Damn you!
And mind you don't break the seal.
Your health, my highly unsuccessful confrère,
Rocking your seed-bells while I drift to ashes.
The future is the future, therefore—
Damn you!
