I've got two months, Bree come on, seriously make this that studio dream. Paint everywhere. That's how shallow I can see it because I'm poverty - that player I've dropped the rankings but next to my nest I am. I'm just wishing and dreaming of more because a time material as soft as felt couldn't stroke a rhythm against my cheek for acceptance to be who I am.
I dream of groups, and they're men in capes and hats. And were strolling on schedule, talking isn't computerised nor a stress to all the places that we as one confide and wanna go, as we pause for the distance that eventually seems given by people who's slow slight slice of Alice was either left behind to conjure by junkies numb to the belief of a coreless cross of the bottom joint..- A rank subdue and obvious to respect.
A group I want to roam, For the one's who dream of cold fog as breath, stems for posts, legs for a stern agent for that place in time that typically that we all would want is to give it nothing but simplicity: A conversation converted to an "oh yeah, that was mad. You're sexy but keep talking as your magic is brewing" So I will not disrupt you to tell you how cool, or how much I appreciate what was said to deliver, because I don't care.. I know there's more than one way to move forward and be game good and inconsiderate.. Asking if we're on the same page, this momentarily stance scores.. All the time.
I've sky rocketed into a level of proposition and incidental I watched it grow from wind that unravels by itself strength by a great inland intuitive experienced too an exemplary drunk with but no doubt he plays with really long nails, grown with a curl so a challenger on the edge he stands next to blue flames.
We need
Conversation as the denominator.
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