The Reddest Ink

I never did any heroin but I love its flowers, and some of the madder braver musical soldiers who marched to it. Callous? But you love that and cruelty the most? And I happen to like songs that make you want to push your eyes in. I know. What's it to me and my credits? Me and my babies? To me and the babies I'll never have? Nada. It's just, turning for you. A golden hourglass webbed within and spun off a wooden shoe; and other broken sentences to distract you from the Marquis we can't live without. Well, maybe you can, for a little while.