Old Man Stop The Pain
stumbling over my quadracepts, fear me with the plague; i might loogie out of malice, and your laughter will fight to flee. contort your chest and have a heart; i'm going to ignore pitch rows 10 and 11. i hope she comes around, a "hi" in the air, for melodic music stands; should i just float under the moon, with the oceans of mud beneath me, and that loving kiss the wind will sigh, wish my health, forever nigh. my phone, the only kite to your heavy sky scrapers.
half-assing it is very post modern, fuck your notes, i like my intergers!
half-assing it is very post modern, fuck your notes, i like my intergers!