Not sure, Monsieur?
W here would this be to me were I called to flay the sheriff's cough?
Why would his drug (momma) call him star and possibly cling to body and a plaster Morgan?
Do you fear God?
Is my passion for annihilation sickening and painful?
Worlds of roast shark climb my tree without a shit for my cloven flames.
Shit tops the angry slash into my world: Listen for cross-time and baloney bob.
Fools call me art. Tranquillity is a friend. Stability is here.
Faust belongs to my bartering ways.
Blowing glazing over the stenched top of my mass, I squeeze the final crone
For my blase toss with pain.
Merger and acquisitions kind of life a friend teaches place with a forge.
Pussy love you.
I square the top with the bottom; I cringe with the screech of the twisting metal; I cloud rights with my floor.
ReplyDeleteChase money at your trade.