Walking up the stairs of the brand new moon.
Corner of my eye, smoking greasy food, feeling foolish.
Rent a gut was pharma clueless.
As the writer i did what i was told.
Many bad decisions, subconscious took over, changing religions, accelerationism.
If you don't then you won't duh, doink ass.
Break a centrist, sorry for rambling.
I'm not understanding.
Woke up in a new intention.
You mentioned landing the station.
But you knew your government was listening the whole time?
What're you boolin?
Just the current dialect.
Miss me some of that old English.
Whaddup it's Jesus!
Before you fucking ask me.
Tryna tell you how I feel about my boy Dante, god damn.
Where am I now?
Thank goodness it's Kroger, anyway
Childens Church continues.
Back of my throat, dependent whimper revenue.
Pitch black Bojack holds me close.
Pop Team Epic blows my nose.
Boy your extent into something nothing disgusts me.
We're snapping at some point soon.
No stopping the curious cat.
Or the inadequacy of their cremation.
If your religion is a nation, social Darwinism.
Disrespectful aren't listening.
Maybe before I flash I pass off some good ol' agreement to a theocrat.
Evil lovers can blunt connections and maybe I'll precise history.
Probably upset them.
Waking up is the hardest part I've always known.
I think Ideology is ready to get the truth, honey bun.
I mean uh bloodshed in the house?
As B-52s said, who the fuck is to blame?
Give me the names.
Don't waste the high times, dark web.
Shameless heaven is standing for seven hours.
You're tired of advice from the ghosts of Andy, Lloyd, and Charlie Kaufman. All mysteriously birthed on Christmas.
Running jokes, bury bunny.
Gathered here for disappointing.
Q-tips buried in the crust of your toilet.
Flakes respect the place and backward stakes he represented.
He knew nothing of penance.
Yes lets penetrate your cavernous feelings.
We'll heel to baby dough.
Heaven could be an attack and puzzle on the ethos, logos, pathos, urging you to shoot your foot off. Damn.
Heavens raw fucking from a 500 dollar plumber visit.
Picking my face with shit in my hands and you held me for so long I've finally realized this life's divine agreement, taking leaving off the table and acceptance for decline in a fable of a 2020 speeding ticket.
A rare sleep jot, I thought I could master the electric.