I could not lie around motolov parties. Equally, I would spare seconds of wishful manifest instead of stationary floating heads. It comes as a surprise, but neither was Belgium an agent supreme. I mean, I’ve seen.
I would only talk in braces like the ones she bothered to wore. I expect similars to attach dismals and dismays over my centipede of frays. I am a verb in synthesized syntaxis, so splendid and stale. Verb out of sentence is void inside fences.
You could recite in order of multitude. Reprises limit the range of sudden notes. You are so brave, such a martian. You mean every right and all is forgiven. You starred in the latest shows outsold by refine taste. You have perfected the art of masks. How am I suppose to keep us going on, then? Oh would you be willing.
And yet you let me in. No, you didn’t perfected anything. It was your brokenness that allowed the star you uphold to shine through every teal and velvet tear. You can convince yourself of anything and that’s why I can do the same to you. We were bordering on insane just to be unlame. Sing, then, undisclosed soul so whispery on the outside, graceful and transparent, invincible from a thousand blasts, invincible from a thousand blasts.
I should make songs about you. They would turn out cohesive. There is a difference between freestyle and please Cinda Kasan why are you so great.
