elbow
little beast
The whole towns slippin down a hill. Like the spine of something dead. Slide in shadow cobble-creep. Burn your mark and leave.  The trench conventions yellow eyes Follow her the local flower The girls a priest (to me at least) Since baptism peroxide.  And fear is not respect. Correct. But it's the best you're gonna get Sharp blow to the bridge of the nose Sharp blow and anything goes.