Everyone is from somewhere, even if you've never been there.
I don't know about carry out, but you can carry me off to bed.
My words are a whisper, your deafness a shout.
The legends lie cradled in the seagulls call, and the promise they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall.
Hold your head up to the gun of a million cathode ray tubes aired at your tiny skull.
You were bred for humanity and sold to society. One day you'll wake up in the present day, a million generations removed from the expectations of being who you really want to be.