Yo,
yo, what's up?
What?
Knock,
knock, there's five families with a poor salary.
Can't afford the formal front door,
welcome me to the year of the king.
Who's reading class?
It's dark, it's a practice of acting.
Follow the road you hold as a man, dear.
That's a troll.
Let's throw the fame frame over the chains.
Hide and lighten.
Let's party postcards.
The devils, you know, it's still devils.
Except the past.
The old gods.
The world's a random.
This evening,
you're going to pay for the last vote.
Kill a joke of retirement money.
Try not to hit it.
He's smiling.
Hopefully, friendly fire in the third quarter.
The world mean it.
That's who will let you help you do.
They'll speak and spin themselves.
And we get a chance with the body.
We are.
The survival's rather high,
summarize the perfect yoke
You can learn to do this play the circus,
money call the free
You're purchased for the comforts of the price of eggs
This place bears the burden of a breakfast like a dope farm
In the darkness,
I pray out of some half-witted butchered digestion
This race calls spare of my face,
and somewhere in the negative space
Sensibility,
these snake pieces are killing me quicker than the tap water
Six season in a fever dreams that
for some reason I still have a flesh
Soulmate blows, roommate who's when we were
Just in for trust and surrender
I can't growl as men grow cold,
as men cold Until you realize the last time I never left the mood
Well,
I held my head and watched fires,
picnic on top of rubble,
labored sweatpants,
labored as excellence
A day laborer, no,
salient society of modern,
no,
to put a hill,
you're very welcome
This book is spitted in a bouncer,
I'll be a legend,
to a face
I find as a sound mind of a mother who's been cold,
need boil the wine,
line of heartless
Crying willy never matter for the * soldier,
with dreaded as shelters,
made of figured out tools
The sunset familiar,
the dust clouded in distance,
roused the building like tools,
and all aims were well thought out
Submitted,
committed for sin and shirt the symmetry,
inverted the faces to enemies,
now tell my hard times
They should be grateful like there's
a graceful way to handle madness,
this little light of mine
Insects,
fire,
the fascist,
while this little mind of mine,
I'm vibed as a monster
Madness,
different than my split scarred knuckles,
revels,
tambourine marble
I,
there's no connecting the dots,
it's like staring at the spiral in the sky
The spiral in the sky,
sky,
sky,
the spiral in the sky
185, clear as *