Scorching Icebergs Burn Me With Lying Lips, as I know this one act has crushed my sweet loving dreams. How I've lied to my naive old self, like a dusty princess in a braided shelf. LASTMA officials dance as I walk and sway, to a tune so familiar it brings disdain. A placid man, blocks my way, as a plastic cycling iced yoghurt peddler rides away.
