He who once had visions of Blake,
dead 7 yrs now, gone
and still without him the world goes on,
In your words I heard blood,
King of May, son of the silent scream.
Someday that will be me,
6 feet below the earth you once walked upon.
Saint, now in the stars, holier than most,
Shining down as I rode in American cars,
I know
I felt it
They will call me crazy for saying so
but that is the risk we take for being honest.
Are you with Neal now or is there another?
Its funny
I never met you but I miss you anyway
No more obscene literature
from you bottomless well
