Simple in my quest for happiness.Lies 12 Demons.Burn A Nigger Burn A Nigger.My arm bears witness to Satan's Cold Hand.Money brings a fruit unedible Consumable to the Soilder lieing wake in this Militia Of Capitalism.Arguments turn into food and water.Water into food.Scholars knelt to a Romans Sword.I stand here muddling over remnants of a former Egypt.I am a Pharaoh in my own Household.Outside those same wall where I formulated a Shopping Spree lies a transport maybe to Mars or The Furthest reaches of some unknown Galaxy. Only the dice holds my Destination.How many Philadelphias are there.
