Chips from Flames

The burn it stings as it kissed his lips.
Straight from the mouth, down to the hips.
The numbing brings us happiness;
Lighting nights to come.
Our nights they play, just like a script.
Eating Chips from Flames, and making trips.
Our hearts they beat, the beat it skips.
The beating of the drum.

Our eyes are red, and open wide.
We keep our feelings up inside.
The whispered words; the harmful digs.
Oinking on, like little pigs

We turn our back to the Kings of the night.
Our every future in our sight.


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