Aug 21, 2005 00:13
who is there left to confide in.
swallows dive bomb pedestrian littered box cars with swift revolting blah, agitated by south north west wind drift, the shallows know it all.
Instilled, and lay claim to a passing fancy, and by any other name, be afraid.
whose ruby reds mouth the words you never want to hear. scream LA LA LA, with finger punched ear, I can't hear nuttin' just the passing fancy over radio shard gab.