My angst has 150 flavors today, all bundled together in a franchise storefront parlour-truck. It's roaming my neighborhood, playing "Teddy Bear Picnic" and frightening children, so I've taken the mace from the desk next to mine and beaten it (the angst) about the head-and-shoulders till the blood from its wounds mingles with the bloody footprints it its been leaving all over the sidewalk.
I have a lot of blood.
There's quicksilver in it-my blood that is. There's quicksilver in my blood, my bones are made of iron and my heart is made of gold. I've said it before, but today, it bears repeating. Polar bears, because I don't get cold. Because of all the blood, you see.
I'll tell you a secret, a topical secret...when I'm attracted to a woman, I'll give her a name. She'll live in my head like an icon, like a symbol or an archetype. So...Verthandi or the Rosy-Hued Dawn, or Burns-Like-a-Ribbon, or winter, or the act-of-god disaster that ruins my stochastic model. This one, I know...She Flies with Her Own Wings.
I have a lot of blood.
There's quicksilver in it-my blood that is. There's quicksilver in my blood, my bones are made of iron and my heart is made of gold. I've said it before, but today, it bears repeating. Polar bears, because I don't get cold. Because of all the blood, you see.
I'll tell you a secret, a topical secret...when I'm attracted to a woman, I'll give her a name. She'll live in my head like an icon, like a symbol or an archetype. So...Verthandi or the Rosy-Hued Dawn, or Burns-Like-a-Ribbon, or winter, or the act-of-god disaster that ruins my stochastic model. This one, I know...She Flies with Her Own Wings.
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