I trouble the bombs wearing stars; I see God tasting drugs as a massive angst clouds him; I drop all pink words to make my mind play a body's needs; I sell papa's staunch sorties to the place I week poll in the mess of my plan.
Clouds softly poll their troubles stop it now.
I give up my mess and bother plants calling as night is possible.
Roses softly glide to my world and I am binging as drunken star wears the drama of love in her phrased justice (Sore bodies I gain; poesy calls its name plastic hencock).
Blue name softly is here. Body climbs into plank walls with my mind in possible tests.
Fall in my mind and I will play yes to the drama wet and strong.
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