Voodoo, I Do.

Swamps and leeches are all that stand in my backyard. Pigs and carousels winding up the roads attraction. Lights and city streets smell of midnight piss. Creatures stirring within and feeding upon the restless people that look sad and pathetic pinned up against the walls. Human gestures lingering in ones palm. Who holds the key? Shards of glass make up a cross. A Green throne to light up for the king. The virgins and the weak. We all needed to know what he was in for. The horrible stench lays from her skin. The cocaine under her finger tips. The way her lips moved under his words. She came from the swamps and he came from the virgins breast. We all begin to listen.