Jul 2013
And Ennui Go...
our curmudgeon's malaise is strapped to an anvil cloud of distinct mist. He trundles through the eye of a needle in his Eye. He blinks when God says " Nothing ". And the choir in his soul is late for rehearsal every minute of the daze. our curmudgeon's malaise is strapped to an anvil cloud if distinct mist. He trundles through the eye of a needle in his Eye. He blinks when God says " Nothing ". And the choir in his soul is late for rehearsal every minute of the daze.
our curmudgeon's malaise is strapped to an anvil cloud of distinct mist. He trundles through the eye of a needle in his Eye. He blinks when God says " Nothing ". And the choir in his soul is late for rehearsal every minute of the daze. our curmudgeon's malaise is strapped to an anvil cloud if distinct mist. He trundles through the eye of a needle in his Eye. He blinks when God says " Nothing ". And the choir in his soul is late for rehearsal every minute of the daze.
