I) A Spacesuit Full of Urine; On the Orbiting City of Kalamazoo
This coffee tastes distorted. A swank fruitcake contemptible martyr, because I will. The nitrogen is fine. It delves in to hypothesis and says, "young lad, so mimical and used. You feel small. Simulated. Advantageous."
So they kick you when you're down, but I'm Jack Frost's son anyhow. Wearing my red shoes out of the wreck.
Chill the backseat in an icetray. Foreign plasma drifts on ravished moonrays because I sit. Endorphin thinking fine. Poison pens scribed circumflected. Self respected.
"Amen", said the spine. Bisect and leer. "This diatribe project through me and tear in."
Englishman with Martian women, you crawl back like your Monday couldn't 'cuz I still hold you trendy style. Wave fake bills. Bloody miles and wars fifteen million minutes through elation and truce in K-Zoo.
"The wedding reception went great, too bad about the inflamed thyroglossal cyst." - A Short Practice of SurgeryTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.