(no subject)
Part of the actuaries acting like she's lacking airy nature packed and scary faced with acts so nary of the sacked and buried under the lax and very understaffed and very flustered laughed and fairing very bad, let it slide off and let it slack under the course of nature's force for the slave of sinner's flack.
This. The communal aspect of it all. The tribunal placement of the stall of accordance with it all, the importance of it all falls in line with the impatience of them all.
They only bleed when told, and they'll never age and only appreciate value like gold. They'll never appreciate what they've sold even after it's gone they'll pretend like they've been trolled.
The state of sanctuary isn't steering safe toward the curb; it's only stealing the vacant from their births and the placement of their worth is in the basement of the mirth from the faces of the first people sacred yet still on earth.
Klepto, but with a stolen bottle of pepto enough to drown these stolen thoughts and shit out a memento. The country isn't running from the bedrock of ideals it's only pining for the silver lining of the hedge-funded appeals.
Let them all laugh at us, they caught the contagion of the hope that we gave them to live with us shaping the course of their slavery. And maybe? Maybe they've caught on, but nonetheless we won't address the fact that they fought on but not for long. They have a bigger brain and even though they're fighting slow the moment won't ever be the same so drink it in and let it sit in the stomach of splintered sin for winter's finished taking slim-ish chances from apologetic gilded men.
This. The communal aspect of it all. The tribunal placement of the stall of accordance with it all, the importance of it all falls in line with the impatience of them all.
They only bleed when told, and they'll never age and only appreciate value like gold. They'll never appreciate what they've sold even after it's gone they'll pretend like they've been trolled.
The state of sanctuary isn't steering safe toward the curb; it's only stealing the vacant from their births and the placement of their worth is in the basement of the mirth from the faces of the first people sacred yet still on earth.
Klepto, but with a stolen bottle of pepto enough to drown these stolen thoughts and shit out a memento. The country isn't running from the bedrock of ideals it's only pining for the silver lining of the hedge-funded appeals.
Let them all laugh at us, they caught the contagion of the hope that we gave them to live with us shaping the course of their slavery. And maybe? Maybe they've caught on, but nonetheless we won't address the fact that they fought on but not for long. They have a bigger brain and even though they're fighting slow the moment won't ever be the same so drink it in and let it sit in the stomach of splintered sin for winter's finished taking slim-ish chances from apologetic gilded men.