My troops are waiting for the little sight
My skin is right
The air is alive at all tonight
A gorgeous web of hands and arms and better chance
And metaphysics in the land
Now you can grow a little tree
Your emotions are rage
Now you can find the little bee
Quilting up on your face

You go to the house where they swallow you
I’m a tone
You go to the place where they call on you
Play a song

His lips are grating in the pin of wires
He’s quite alright:

My ending is nearest to my plight
(I wanted to know what he was like.)

Now you can find the wonder girl
Go to war
You ought to go to find the fear
Believe it’s fine
And it is fine
It is fine
It’s fine

Grip of emotion in the wade of right
I’m killing fire
I’m going too long for a little while

Picture me in grease
My heart is yearning for the time
The goats are leaving as they please
The zebra screams half past midnight
From the ghosts of aviation
To the wind inside my chest
The caboose is such a shame
Salem witch trials in me

The flag is very high
Devouring knowledge like a crime
My eyes are focused on a fruit
I would attack you for your loot

Your bag is full of
Pieces of my heart
But you can’t see them
They blend in with bread crumbs

Point at higher towers
The litter’s on the floor
My mark is written on my hand
The chattel’s scribbled on the wall
I want to take it as it goes
The marts are settled on my chin
My ears are open to your eyes
Your spirit has kept me alive

My hiss is blurring
Go to the point where
We aren’t forever
Your fish are lonesome
Comfort them sometime
I am the fifth bite
I want to cry sight
No
Excuse
Find
Some room

I’m a little masterpiece
I’m a little masterpiece
I’m a little masterpiece
Oh my life is slowly changing

Leaving till the bones are alive
Freudian ecstasy sight
Grinding in the break of light
Shivering after the sight!
I’m a little masterpiece
Oh my life is thlowly change

Not anyone who makes a fool of me
Can make me a searing crown

My soul is hardened
Go to the brow
Pedantic and cry without a smile
Go to mans or hands
With a squirrel environment
And a couple rings
For a god in ******* land
Never once had a second chance

I’m a civil ensue
A piece of beluga
A ginger without ginger ale
The findest of truths
The point of my sorrow
There’s no better telling it’s you
My suit is a core
I’m missing a secret to tell you that we are not here
This suit
My gender and neutral and carving a bub with no ail-
-ment too
It’s singing in higher octaves than a court from the sun
Fishbowl
But wise are the ones who respect you and me
The pagans and flattery

Can a man be wiser
Than those who pray?
The lipstick is not a mental state
You’re a kind of world
With the eyes of cartilage
Cartridge melting hands
Pornographic documents
But I wish I knew
How to fill the atom bomb
Without being too
Strange reflections on the phone
Can I save you with just a tone?

Will you give me some time
No man is a wizard
Departments of you in dis-spine
Fill rule
A garden of hoses and rubber paints everywhere
Saint Jude
A willful illusion of knowing what’s not really there
Car tool
A pinning of car down of soup pool and ******* the dog
Last rule
I’m thicker than fool
Same tears are the ones who reflect documents
Align to the ones who spend
Pin to the eyes of rejecting a kiss
On purpose, they will not split
My soul is bleeding
Above the sky

Frightening spiders light the hallway too
Galore of cattle pines and fractals
Nevermind the beastly ports of air diminishment
Suckle out the messing games of heat traps and despair
Go to fill me up, try to sell your luck
Miss the blue man’s tide

Sober on the solid ground
Kiss the rain goodbye
When it comes to wasting time
Hole in one to come

Jill on the blue hill
Four generations ago
She whimpers out on the snow

Celeste on the bar of raptors
Balloons in cattle graze and pinchers
Gold and gallions with a few
Salooning down the street
Been a long time, wait for now
Maroon establishment

Go alone and pack your bags
This is no guessing game
I’m the ******* of this town
For a long time now

Wind inside the wind
It’s not a secret to me
My mind was a capitalist greed

Soap of laughter fill the spot
Soaked me up, enjoyed a lot
With blood filling up the room
My instincts tell me truth

Losing the quiet for the sound
I wish all for nothing to be found
My lips aren’t moving till I see the one inside

The rat is where the moon should be
I’m such a ****, I couldn’t say
I’m a little noise in the sound
You are such a wonderful clown
So let’s go to wake them up
Our arms are winning at the spot

My elimination’s tropic sign
Spitting and laughter fill my mind
Carve inclinations beaming at the suit of sight

My illumination is writ
For the fun
Plotting every time in the grit
Lots of fun
Graining suffocation too
The room is having suffrage grooves

Guess all the times I haven’t got
Break to the air and leave a lot
Climb into nature with a sort of havoc spot

My mood is gone for passing up
My foil is ruptured in the spot
Will your heart respect my own goods?
Can you opportune in the moods?
Fill yourself to go and wait
For better times are always great

My cup is full, so fill it up
You’ve seen the movies and drank a lot
Do you understand the demands?
Do you complicate with the plans?
Find the war inside your heart
The patience is a work of art

The problems at your bedroom side
The crazy calling up at night
The way you talk to move your hands
The way you slither up the sand
Hissing and sparkling
Like the man outside your door who wants a piece of you