A Baker's ex-wife ran out of cakeso she gave head for some bread.
Pinch. Crackle-burn. Crack. Creep-catch. Fire:Wind, who knowyou two were good friends.
WHEN YOU when you hold MY my hand MY my heart wants TO to BEAT beat youMk.
The canopywas a kid's collageof finger paintson fathers old night shirt.While the day drieshe will take a nap.
hitting the green makes me want to watch the blue twist baby twist so slow they think you are a prude.but I have watched you all day. and know that you get dirty
i have seensome pullan extraordinary weightjust to seemsimple.
A pack of them.Light reflecting off of the black of them.Might have missed my smile,I was seated to the backs of them.No reniggs.No cuts.I have nothing but two handsof snaps for them.If there was a mic,I would rap for them.But,tonight is jazz night.So,I tip the band extrathentoe tap for them.