Safety The fly, sitting on the swatter, is denied even the exhilaration of that swinging death. In a place of utter safety, so close to the instruments of death that he has become untouchable, he sighs, knowing he has nothing left but to find some shit to eat and then tomorrow die.
mm...dark...haha. I like the revelation-ish feel to it. Kinda reminds me of Marilyn Manson's "The Nobodies"... Jesus, all I seem to do nowadays is compare people's work to other people's work. :tongue: