If it waits it tumbles him do so.
In the heif of the number of his woe.
And so blood splatters by the thousands
As if a thud heaves his cycle forward.
It was the grotto that before him,
Undertook the incline or the thrill.
And if the rider should go outside again,
Blood ****** and splatter may be his role.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 6:26 AM UTC
If it waits it tumbles him do so.
In the heif of the number of his woe.
And so blood splatters by the thousands
As if a thud heaves his cycle forward.
It was the grotto that before him,
Undertook the incline or the thrill.
And if the rider should go outside again,
Blood ****** and splatter may be his role.
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