Testo Nearly Wichtes

Here I am, composing a burlesque, out of where they rest their heads, sulking in their splintered cradles. And ramshakled hands, They asked for it, As a boy, I eat my wishes on golden tooth picks and digested them with wolf intestines, I fell from the heavens, As a fetish blessed with, An operatic skeleton, And as the stars watch me descend, I cracked a family tree and, Chopped off all of the branches, (x2)