Random words equal random BS
Random BS
And she struts and she swings and her hips glide free like water but she looks down and looks away and her eyes slide by like a cat's prowl, finicky feline, fathomless angel, spearing my thoughts with a freight train
Shadows slithering serpent's grace over leather and lace, shedding skin like starlight to slide naked over the flesh of her body covered in the gray of midnight twightlight moonshine
Bikini bottoms and pursed nipples curling tight from the cold wind blowing south drive the boys to the beach and girls to the parlor but the sand and sun can’t warm the surf that descends from frozen wastelands.
It’s sacrifice, it’s rape, it’s bloody and screaming and pain, suffer the child who watches the birth of another, tiny and red, squalling to break and breaking and broken, hands buried in birthing fluid like penile projections from God.
Candy cheery lip gloss on the rearview mirror and love notes written like poor mans graffiti stain the sanguine notions of yester year with the monochromatic council of modern nihilistic thought
Gimme a word, I'll give you BS.
And she struts and she swings and her hips glide free like water but she looks down and looks away and her eyes slide by like a cat's prowl, finicky feline, fathomless angel, spearing my thoughts with a freight train
Shadows slithering serpent's grace over leather and lace, shedding skin like starlight to slide naked over the flesh of her body covered in the gray of midnight twightlight moonshine
Bikini bottoms and pursed nipples curling tight from the cold wind blowing south drive the boys to the beach and girls to the parlor but the sand and sun can’t warm the surf that descends from frozen wastelands.
It’s sacrifice, it’s rape, it’s bloody and screaming and pain, suffer the child who watches the birth of another, tiny and red, squalling to break and breaking and broken, hands buried in birthing fluid like penile projections from God.
Candy cheery lip gloss on the rearview mirror and love notes written like poor mans graffiti stain the sanguine notions of yester year with the monochromatic council of modern nihilistic thought
Gimme a word, I'll give you BS.