a hl la
this morning dew the morning's crisp
smelled no different from a crypt
countless lost souls walk the streets
leading straight ones to doom
a homeless man sleeps on the bench
not knowing really he's half in his trench
a drunkard spews the merlion's glory
who'll deck the halls with boughs of holly?
the day is breaking, it has broken
the gates of hell reopen
don't worry if you haven't the slightest clue what this is
for it is about what it is.
Friday, December 06, 2002
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
Monday, December 02, 2002
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