Tilted on this harmonic spindle
Gazing up through a cellar window
God and song, money for rockstar car pinto
Sick kind of hint though
Glimmer shrieking bravados
Do tell more oh Ye heavenly staccato
Brovo, to tenor gasing hopes old motto
Promise always soprano in tomorrow
Lack lumine mustered frustration
Baritone mute sung upon this;
Digital paper, fishing for vapor
Continue ones lust, this to trust, and a must.