My eagle, my best friend I should have bought you flowers if I had another chance maybe, baby as I was wrong, I wrote the wrong warnings and sour it was I made you blink twice and worry I'm sorry.
Slumped and blown out now I copy that Roger and say I'm a burnt out race car. They've stopped now doll, there's no more than a dug up trech by society of ugly words and powerful monsters that are already paid for.
I don't rap anymore doll, I don't like wind runner jackets no more but Nike the friend I never had. I need to tell you and now I'm thinking new so apologies if this is shit but careless fashion I forget about on the occasion but a new creditability raised up to me the other week - of savvy brands that stock cotton fleece pants in one man's sad and trashed. It's shocking man I'm stolen at hand and by that I mean, my stuff's scanned. It's Richard allowance wretched and lukewarm to a likewise plead catch squirming to let loose and let go, and get lost.
They justice said worn what I am told now on the reg. Written maybe not but I think that's what they meant but this is special. I still am holding bold barely beautiful but beauty is beauty and so if said merely genderised by pure self compliment and belief, so personal Doll, I'm suffering and I'm exceptionally eccentric Towner judge to agitate the poverty waive.
I say there's no mean to language and a call to jump to what you think, yes I still believe in the letter as an intellectual infidelity to our daily bigger like a buffet is different to breakfast, even though we eat and devour and munch and nibble and swallow bad news and swallow our tears so we reframe turning into an outpour of blubbering wet mess for that moment which, by the way, I can't help but open my eyes dry and laugh and mind you, keep blinking cos I'll believe it. ---so it's sad when we cry. But it used to be sadder.
It's frowned down to spout the less if little branded they've already left. Saying if you ain't good you don't have a place. So I'll click my tongue at those who are crying because they've cried beforehand and fuck them, you could be worrying about what sort of person you are but these people aren't because they believe they were rubbed into the dishwashing job in their own life.
Which is a shit corner to stand, mind you and I know you're asking, 'are you? Do you dishwasher or dish wash your own life as if it was the duty of your life; to take care of yourself?' - I'll answer that amongst the churn of feelings I can literally see I'm supposed to feel. There's chapters I can respond either they are augmented- that's for sure, or segmented like a worm peach surrounds my head like a turbo Doll I don't need to clean up in my life ever, if I want to get better About myself it's buying new clothes to make me feel better. How that works is a track of simplicity that's obvious as to where I'm going or want to go in the future. But I was shaped as this announced I will stay, I want to- but a program polar to Landmark deity about complication and eye contact because freedom of will and as anarchy is not comically taught but a trade in this world. My fashion trends doll on a weekly toll but they won't fade as it's everyday we dress to cross hearts and count the beats. Small countries alike we walk alone fashionably with an opinion costly and unjust we attempt as general civilians vast on experience and living. Either I'm dying max, or every one's fading and you care because you're not sure if growing up sucks or hurts more. I think the same. It just sucks. It sucks because it gives us an amount of gayness we can count yet don't agree with. All these artificial "perfections" everywhere we all just think it's barely boring, or they think we're swimming. Since when the fuck are we swimming? We're on the walk bro and looking good is the least of our worries as the lower pinnacle. Less is a difference that we make the feeling shadowing or glowing from ourselves when something good or bad happens. Those moments are supposed to be simple and independent, I think, like friendship. Why thank what has been brought because I don't have time not to exclaim anymore, I'm tied up to hardly sketchy and only trusting-clarity. Enough of my thoughts, I'm an absolute incredible mess changing the pencil I'm using to often when I'm trying to act.
Slumped and blown out now I copy that Roger and say I'm a burnt out race car. They've stopped now doll, there's no more than a dug up trech by society of ugly words and powerful monsters that are already paid for.
I don't rap anymore doll, I don't like wind runner jackets no more but Nike the friend I never had. I need to tell you and now I'm thinking new so apologies if this is shit but careless fashion I forget about on the occasion but a new creditability raised up to me the other week - of savvy brands that stock cotton fleece pants in one man's sad and trashed. It's shocking man I'm stolen at hand and by that I mean, my stuff's scanned. It's Richard allowance wretched and lukewarm to a likewise plead catch squirming to let loose and let go, and get lost.
They justice said worn what I am told now on the reg. Written maybe not but I think that's what they meant but this is special. I still am holding bold barely beautiful but beauty is beauty and so if said merely genderised by pure self compliment and belief, so personal Doll, I'm suffering and I'm exceptionally eccentric Towner judge to agitate the poverty waive.
I say there's no mean to language and a call to jump to what you think, yes I still believe in the letter as an intellectual infidelity to our daily bigger like a buffet is different to breakfast, even though we eat and devour and munch and nibble and swallow bad news and swallow our tears so we reframe turning into an outpour of blubbering wet mess for that moment which, by the way, I can't help but open my eyes dry and laugh and mind you, keep blinking cos I'll believe it. ---so it's sad when we cry. But it used to be sadder.
It's frowned down to spout the less if little branded they've already left. Saying if you ain't good you don't have a place. So I'll click my tongue at those who are crying because they've cried beforehand and fuck them, you could be worrying about what sort of person you are but these people aren't because they believe they were rubbed into the dishwashing job in their own life.
Which is a shit corner to stand, mind you and I know you're asking, 'are you? Do you dishwasher or dish wash your own life as if it was the duty of your life; to take care of yourself?' - I'll answer that amongst the churn of feelings I can literally see I'm supposed to feel. There's chapters I can respond either they are augmented- that's for sure, or segmented like a worm peach surrounds my head like a turbo Doll I don't need to clean up in my life ever, if I want to get better About myself it's buying new clothes to make me feel better. How that works is a track of simplicity that's obvious as to where I'm going or want to go in the future. But I was shaped as this announced I will stay, I want to- but a program polar to Landmark deity about complication and eye contact because freedom of will and as anarchy is not comically taught but a trade in this world. My fashion trends doll on a weekly toll but they won't fade as it's everyday we dress to cross hearts and count the beats. Small countries alike we walk alone fashionably with an opinion costly and unjust we attempt as general civilians vast on experience and living. Either I'm dying max, or every one's fading and you care because you're not sure if growing up sucks or hurts more. I think the same. It just sucks. It sucks because it gives us an amount of gayness we can count yet don't agree with. All these artificial "perfections" everywhere we all just think it's barely boring, or they think we're swimming. Since when the fuck are we swimming? We're on the walk bro and looking good is the least of our worries as the lower pinnacle. Less is a difference that we make the feeling shadowing or glowing from ourselves when something good or bad happens. Those moments are supposed to be simple and independent, I think, like friendship. Why thank what has been brought because I don't have time not to exclaim anymore, I'm tied up to hardly sketchy and only trusting-clarity. Enough of my thoughts, I'm an absolute incredible mess changing the pencil I'm using to often when I'm trying to act.
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