Your god damned uncle changed you some when you were five more than once.Your near-sighted family toasting healthy alive.Nothing Else.Your burning southern shelter pushed you north to arrive and ignore a close friend some ecstasy taking off new clothes for the truth.Who`s Jon anyway?What does he mean?What did you expect me to say?Salty bodies of your half-brothers born reside behind locked doors.Fever-pitched, drunk regret, holes in your lungs staying alive.A lie.
