First I want to tell you a story of how art can grow in a dream
Every day when I sleep
A fairy tale comes to my ears
I try to follow the story line threw the night
But the fairy will sleep away
That's why every day i dream of deamons and bones
I enter the world of the death like you enter a bar
I know it's a dangerous trip to hell
But art seems to lead me to routes I walk
I can't dream fairy tales any more
But I sleep like a dead till the morne
Posted by gemayze
at 6:00 PM EST
