Sad, mooning morning Lost beasts and time Disgust for machine lust overwhelming It's not that I don't love you That you don't love me enough To sinfully and wantonly **** me After all it's my birthday Cause I'm old and you've lost interest in being the man I loved That's why our children tricked you into writing and sending your confession
Stand up and take a bow we learned your lessons well who to trust, how to trust, and when Turned us kids into your spies, your lies, your alibis to get us to create the software to do it So you could **** your mystic **** genie please know our kindness as hatred All access passes to dumb ******* This memeallscene is a gallery crawl, a gallow's walk of perps, who should have known better
Just a thanks for clogging the artists' ether with kiddy **** much love for Kate Torn we used your magick to put us back together Your address is on the ticket, the reddress that you bought her. Tap lightly, tap lively not, the tuoche of Jack Frost is upon you.
All the best and much kindness. Perfection is a trick of the mind.
This poem will change and tighten the ties that bind us together From the women and men of Bandahache. for the women who sign away the right to tell their stories I hear you Anita Hill But we've been stalked and stifled long enough Yes, that's what prayer can do