I'm born, once and seven something is the resurrection of honorable function Been shoveling as the engine's doctor enough to see my silhouette acquire a permanent kink in the posture The maintenance of icicle by the warmth of true endearment Was, is, and forever be a luxury I'm a columnist fathering doom document Cursed of a certain Virgin Mary womb occupant
[Verse I know swamp rats who never suckled purification AS blurry had them speeennnd breeezzzzze Stuck until my friend leaves puppet for the plummet bum numb enough to stomach the city Who's that hugging a silhouette of willows the hill's crest pan out? On the candy coated crab apples, sugar dipped deadpan I got a plan, tourniquet my quest Then a needle into battling to mute the mess When patience galas with absentee ballots I in the button Strutting to exhibit mankind's hostility With a heave, in comparison a Mathias Goliath Live to frame in a wicked silence I top and ate my nameless creator I bumped eyelids With a Christ we saw the thing through a second What's that? The grand mosaic historical glory in a legend Nursed me through the time stick and mixes hexed my fertile crescent Now well, I'm laughing on the inside I swear Just trying to keep my head above red despair My imperfections pair off with buddy symmetric morbidly So every the discontent's locked accordingly turn mummy's, show the perfection of preserved glory condition And pray for the day a star child the ribbon Better land a two-hand grip when that spoon full of sugar chaser Credible her antidote's terrible taste her Bought her a stolen soul peddler Pigeon back pen Never said a implied health me a mobile advertisement for that hybrid plant of fabrics I practical, now is you is or is you ain't compatible? I the wind in my opinions plus hyper clutch to Crush one's ginger bread awful, It's the day the great oak met the saw mill A lifeline of spectacular expansion meets the At the hand of one tantrums My friend's got a about dreams, I look and laugh I dream a book my friends and still can't decipher the half Ch-ch-chatter box, now let a soothsayer Cater to a green battered on the brink of disease I am, and bones, I am, sin and poems, I am, tin and chrome Your grin and groans fuck it I'm tinted when accrete Blow the pedals off a trying to make my little gypsy blush And felt as if I'd actually accomplish the bullies of the jokes soak in treatment Sit and watch the percentages on the evening a ghost up in the fuselage a second before the cog dropped To the and stared him down until he fixed it
OH, Fashion, cool and all but what about God? [Oh God, well he's the man, but I MEAN what about What, like novels, man that don't hold my attention, HOW about [Television hurts my brain, how about walking in the OOH, I hate walking, it's boring, how some old fashioned gone fishin' [Yeah, fishing's great but JUST HATE hooking the bait, lets NAH, I've got too left plus motion sickness, how about breakfast? [Man, I'm hungry, but that I'mma have to borrow some money] Let's fly a kite [Let's burn the sell lemonade [Let's drink] Let's poke a hole inside the tugboat, ease on and watch it sink [Nah, lets fail a pupil once a year at random to the academy] Casually note the blossom of phantom alignment
Two] I'll make the water out of order in autumn SORTA CAUGHT'EM When their GUARDS mimicked the vintage knuckle drag sacked in a I my rag dummy appearance with a most cohesive spirit Cried a river yesterday, ain't shed a since GIMME GIMME, wrote the Old community cartoon The carousel ballooned aware, inviting it I'm swore to Adam and matter and Warhead thorax and to primitive horse back galloping My index fingers DRESSED in my talisman branded up in the skin (I SPY THE PRODUCT) One must pardon ye old sheep detour Weaving through the prime directive column virus retreats to allotted Valom Bean stalk where the fiend walk and my is mud But that's got a to it so my SQUEAL welcomes the flood I walk through practical joke on man, practically broke, And if they raise my rent I'll spend my nights practically soaked Who spits silk dimensions through the loose by the raft? after lack of reasoning dead'em (it's like 3, 2, 1, bedlam) Oh I'm hung, I've to hope but see you in hell I'll be that clear blue icicle that refused to melt Sturdy grillage, tin can skeleton, Skull of a dilapidated dream remnants Here to convict on a tin bucket of evidence I steer where the heaven's merely a legend so the peasants dream