I trip to South America soon, with Dad in tow,
for five long years we burn under the American sun.
I have one year's money saved, but while there make fuck-load on sale of manuscript, nature unknown.
I take bunkers of cookies and wash them down with soapy beer and faeces,
tomorrow I will break my back lifting Moloch to Heaven.
I feel like the world is getting heavier every day, but I don't know who to consult.
Most people are unfamiliar with the concept of weight, they only understand smell, and what it feels like to rub pine cones against your vagina.
