Influx of Portraiture

Angelic tone
throughout the art tongue of the evolve'd glory
in the universal doubt
I used to know red hot pain
upon my tongue and liver
through Mercury poisons
and thoughts of torture

maybe it was oft handed bliss
that made me a pirate
not like Liberty
but more like a dough handed snot
who through out the edge of riot
could see the fain of delicious treats

I knew the tain and the cat o nine tails
the torture instruments on deck
the precise compass of latitude
through the stabbing of backwards hands
in evolved lingo of somebody's backhanded torture
through out the edge of Oblivion
saw it sober
and proceeded to not touch drugs, maybe had a beer
in the twilight proceedings of perfect justice
knew the languor of sense
like a lobotomy
with my arm branded by some black heart
we should start a band of brothers and sisters
it has been too long
I think I feel I feel pain
I'm not after the payouts any longer
that and I do not gamble
I was raised as a priest through I don't affect the attitude any longer
I love the color black
and funny notations in personal advertisements
and I don't want transference of disease
like the edge of infamy
when I had raised my red sails
after calling rape for the worse torture in the world,
doctors, I hardly knew thee, do you practice?
No, but I know the bloody empire
with their pressed syringes and liquid amphetamines
giving me heart attacks
through electronic signals
and portraiture of loved one's flesh
like the edge of our old Victory
that cut communications with spectral Empire
just to land where this place came from,
singing songs and holding hands
what we can all agree on
is that in the past
there was way too much pain
here
don't use me as a salve
I am used to whiskey sometimes
and can hardly state my words
when I found out that it was you.