a levy-buckling flood as mom's bloody custody bath was set-
your ripped Levi's rushing in grasses. Perhaps it was childish.
dope
Sinusoidal sobriety of a battered man, ghost. Squeaking soft,
you'd sneak me off. For ninety days a year he'd be your weekend haunt.
whoa...thats on some otha' shit
better to be free then free'd is a good endin'
I liked thiz...consistent shit no doubt
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