The first summer storm is upon us, brother.
The worst are dark and warm,
and the sky they smother.
A flask with jacket lines keeps my clutch foot steady.
The mask strategically hides my face.
I'm ready.
I call your name.
The one front of disaster as the cold
front's moving faster when you call my name.
So
be ye not misled with whom you are dealing.
I don't see who's the buyer within.
And judge ye not who breaks bread with me.
I am healing at the speed of which my fire's setting.
I call your name.
I never get an answer.
All your words become a cancer when you call my name.
