The moon hangs like the blade of an axe tonight, and it's poised to drop sometime soon enough on this dump truck where<a href="http://www.testimania.com/">Testi Canzoni</a> I lie mixed up with the morning's trash. There's a piece of glass sticking in my back and tar covering my mouth. But it's o.k. cause I'm still breathing and my hands are free of the heap. And I think that I see that big blade falling, and the pressure is getting to me and the waste in which I sit is just lurking beside me. And I can't tell if it's me or the meat that's rotting. I'm gonna have to give up sometime soon. And I think that I see that big blade coming to slice open a great canyon through the earth so you can watch me disappear.

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