fried money doesn't taste better. it still tastes like ****. Even in sugar there's a burning feelin' in my stomach brain-- eat too much of one knowledge cereal sweet marital marinaded bliss barbecue kissing the pig.
Midnight wind flies through me--- you can't buy that in a can! Words pass through me conduit intuitively future thoughts flood my brain my boat is my third eye sailing in a crazy summer dawn light. I don't see a price tag on there, right?
Talent trickles in our blood from a divine vibration beating in our hearts speeding up the parts in our brain to see the whole picture-- like a single green leaf slowly blooms in the dawn light.