Past the burning day,
at bedtime when I shrug off sleep,
when I've got school the next morning, and I shouldn't be here,
I sit down and press play, and the noise starts, and the colors fly up around me, and cities erect and destroy themselves as the songs start and end.
I fall in.
I fall in deep.
When I was a little younger than I am now,
I went home after school and wrote until bedtime.
That was enough to take me into the stratosphere.
I'd play in the cloud for hours and hours.
I will tell you what I remember from high school, and I will tell you how you can follow in my sinful and lowly footsteps, that your blood might be as holy as mine.
I first began in the business of selling people when I sold a strange man in Jerusalem that I did not like for thirty silver pieces. Swaths of people flocked after him down into the precipice of the market.
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