They shot sadness interviewing his self during ray
Satan the politician
Gonna touch my china

She gives me more

Go head Kendall

Anthony walking down to San Francisco

I'm tickling almost blue

Don't rap on naps, chores
Collar that child
Pops up to the business
Best ante be inside that hinge
Wild blue child
Cried and crawled into
That wild abandon
Mama no romance, in
Pop Pa the belts the govna
Pa pop up on ur bus
It's the substitute

Anthony on the blue bye you

Taylor gave you tried your play with that one enough?

Albert king mentions this to Stevie Ray

Glimpse
Faltered Catchings
As fate was renewed
In spoiling of ink and songs
The clawfootings nest, awakes
Spirited joy
Gambling and dancing
Mischievous nuscance's
Joy filled pander

A French ladies girlhood
Jestering with courtship
And thievery

Her handed change
Spills of galaxy
Abandon of Greece
Partner of romance
Wonderous mortal boys torment
Goddess of folly and treasure tears
Fall at once
Capture my Irish play
Off with your heathen again
Grab the thatches and begone


Hangle and Lie
The devout of tomorrow
Belie your desire
Blankets of spite await in my idioms

Free thinkers, endangered and fragile

Social architects chipping away at the luster of our imagination

But some of us are nimble and agile

We tune in to the frequency of our own station

We are a shape that fits no mold

And when we tweak our unique, we shine like gold

Morphine & Cola, Mrs. I can't believe I told you this is, so exacerbating I Can't sleep; even this weather riles inside me as we weep. There wasn't Anything that'd have shown you. There hasn't been a single sprout of Showmanship, or the erstwhile philanthropy that needers' raise their Eyebrows to and to. This is the degree we know it. The subtle afterglow With everything that you've known, and while the snow settles on your Window sill. While winter rime binds its ice to the wheat, and every soft Little seedling sewn, whispers its final sentences before autumn while it Drifts itself to sleep. There were the cards and the faces of Jacks among Aces, places uplifted by China dishes of porcelain overflowing, like Tencel in socks, woven into the pockets of trousers. Where does the Mischief go while it certainly isn't ours, and the dandy light across your Temple bares a gleam.

Some things are enriching, but yet too sordid to stare at. While the game Is enriching, the pain is too much to bear, and whether in vain or *******, the likes of you, make these lips of mine much softer against Your finger tips. Tips of fingers, petals of flowers, baskets of fresh bread Baked with wheat flour- follow the noon bird, fancy a sit by a brook, and Listen for the whistle-less, whistling of a rook.

Grey is quite golden too. Like the same tencel that I've used, or the silken Web treated to a loom, like lightning bugs out for an early dance on the Afternoon. Seldom as moss on sidewalk path or the pangs of laughing Heart at mass. What does the new bird bring? The bride of this coming Spring? For every sugarcube we taste, we save ourselves from second Base. Dr. Narrod with a gentle touch, the inspection you love so much. The gentle morsels smoothed upon the hand. The girl-like woman with Her ewe-like lamb. "For all of you who wanted them 808s, can you feel that ******* bass. For all of those who wanted them 808s, can you feel that ******* bass. I like the way you move."