Sonic Delusion
  • Home
  • About
  • Shows
  • Music
  • Videos
  • Photos
  • Contact

NO NAME

And so we glide out
In our little boat of tablecloth blue
And the skin of the sea splits a little
Just enough to let us through

The morning cracks open
Fiery red tails and clouds like fish scales
Her arms are silken like risen dough
Her arms are silken like risen dough

There’s no name for this
So there’s no shame in it
Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
  • Home
  • About
  • Shows
  • Music
  • Videos
  • Photos
  • Contact