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Comments about Franz Pascobillo
Come my friend, cherished one, king of the night.
Let us walk through the land of sweet despair.
To the corroding graveyard inside my heart.
Where all my dead are buried and kept.
Is it not lovely, my graveyard?
Though gray, is full of memory.
Though frightening, is painted like art.
Though gloomy, is rich and full of meaning.
Listen! Laughter echoes across its empty sky.
Feel! Cries of pain are eating out the sound.
See! Roses grace its expansive soil.
Know! The red are blood a-flowing.
Now, let me entertain you, king of the night.
Let us ...