The way you cry
Over your bread
Recess of people make the time out of selling it by the wheat

The marijuana can **** a bit of pain
I don’t know how, I just never hoped
It would be so soon that it weeded out my mead, kneeded with *******

A dream of little sunshine on your street
I pressed my cheek to you demurred
Joyous that we had divided the new order and found God lurking in the corners of godless streets