In waves..

Wise Wiggles · 10-20-2013, 05:38 PM

I plant myself in my grave. Every night is my slave.
Depraved. Stolen. Rolling at raves. In waves. Is this staged?
Holding a flame. Scolding in shame. Folding my brain.
Molten in rain. Unspillable bubbler. I'm feeling I love her.
Killing the cover. Chilling. Discolored. A pillion have- uhh, you're
Ill as a sun burn. Ready to plagiarize some Raveneye's,
Which are delaying light. I'm waaaaay too high
So God cares? You're wrong to think it
Those cross-hairs belong to Jesus
Gross, arm chairs? I wanna eat it
I'm about as honest as ponzi slime, in this chronic of concubines
Just a zombie that's on the line. Chomping the rotten minds
I'm watching. Yes, Spawn's alive. Exhausting these groggy sky's
For all the yawning's that wanna die. Wash me. Lobotomize.
Found a couch in the clouds and it's comfortable here
Under the pier, I float face down in refundable fear
And this distrust I dip brushes in barely
Is a witch hunt when I script something with diligent substance,
Sorta scary to think, yo, so.. You only spit once, just rip up & tare me.
Hidden plots for missing cops, trying to dig what was buried.
Covered in pig's blood, a Carrie-Norman-hybrid
Can never bury a corpse in silence. Digital Portland-violet
Half fried, Harvey Dent Versace, Ben's a zombie
My ten's are sloppy like Gwen Stefani
Spit car fires, barbed wire writtens
Tar highs, with jarred spider lineage
Star diving idiot. Mogwai. Insidious.

10-20-2013, 05:38 PM	#1
Wise Wiggles nok Su kow Join Date: Jan 2013 Posts: 4,505 Battle Record: 1-1 Rep Power: 51788022	In waves.. I plant myself in my grave. Every night is my slave. Depraved. Stolen. Rolling at raves. In waves. Is this staged? Holding a flame. Scolding in shame. Folding my brain. Molten in rain. Unspillable bubbler. I'm feeling I love her. Killing the cover. Chilling. Discolored. A pillion have- uhh, you're Ill as a sun burn. Ready to plagiarize some Raveneye's, Which are delaying light. I'm waaaaay too high So God cares? You're wrong to think it Those cross-hairs belong to Jesus Gross, arm chairs? I wanna eat it I'm about as honest as ponzi slime, in this chronic of concubines Just a zombie that's on the line. Chomping the rotten minds I'm watching. Yes, Spawn's alive. Exhausting these groggy sky's For all the yawning's that wanna die. Wash me. Lobotomize. Found a couch in the clouds and it's comfortable here Under the pier, I float face down in refundable fear And this distrust I dip brushes in barely Is a witch hunt when I script something with diligent substance, Sorta scary to think, yo, so.. You only spit once, just rip up & tare me. Hidden plots for missing cops, trying to dig what was buried. Covered in pig's blood, a Carrie-Norman-hybrid Can never bury a corpse in silence. Digital Portland-violet Half fried, Harvey Dent Versace, Ben's a zombie My ten's are sloppy like Gwen Stefani Spit car fires, barbed wire writtens Tar highs, with jarred spider lineage Star diving idiot. Mogwai. Insidious. __________________ "black as midnight..black as pitch blacker than the soul of the foulest witch" Last edited by Wise Wiggles; 10-20-2013 at 05:41 PM.