Ear my sadness. Do some lock Ness. Please, get the ears behind them ; I gone ever sum little changes. Ice scream is my own, lonely (p)art shows what girls dare, and care sick is pack for fever. More, for ever more, become chart has coming soon. Hi does the spoon. Moonless smoke and broken eyes from you. You are the sun of my boots, there is proud for none, sproud. Let them shine on bloody backs, for the punk army and lovely little guys from Chicago (I think). Drawn back the hump and glove the ball majority for me, I'm not able too, bore them goods. Blow your out, mindless flowers. I sink I love you, but...
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