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The penguins march On a stretch of snowy starch Ignoring the onlookers But wolf whistling among the crowd, the hookers The sounds clearly getting louder Is that... is that gun powder? Gouging out the eyes to block out the sight Is definitely not the answer to your plight The confetti flies upwards and away To turn into a malleable *** of clay Juggling the yard of goat string cheese More after this message? Yes please! Longing on the thought of belonging As our not so miserable existence we seem to be prolonging Your thoughts, i wish to sway With my words, let me take you away
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
Dalicate whiskers of the young and old
The penguins march On a stretch of snowy starch Ignoring the onlookers But wolf whistling among the crowd, the hookers The sounds clearly getting louder Is that... is that gun powder? Gouging out the eyes to block out the sight Is definitely not the answer to your plight The confetti flies upwards and away To turn into a malleable *** of clay Juggling the yard of goat string cheese More after this message? Yes please! Longing on the thought of belonging As our not so miserable existence we seem to be prolonging Your thoughts, i wish to sway With my words, let me take you away
salil-panvalkar
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
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