Writingsong
8:28 PM
Do you ever feel like falling water,
bouncing off the hand you’re cleansing,
falling once again and rolling gently down the drain?
Have you ever heard of brawny new round
bilge lap strake sea skiffs a sailing?
1957 ‘s tailing Myrna loy in hornblow heaven.
No? You haven’t? that’s a shame.
Hey, you haven’t heard one single word I’ve said.
Hey, I’ll have to hand it to myself instead.
It’s 1898 you’re curled up in ball
Inside a barrel toward the falls
you bob in peril
feel the roar and pray its thunderous…
Show the whore you’re someone she will miss…
Death to thee will be thy counter diss…
The afterlife is perfect for a tryst.
((newstereo))
Do you ever feel like falling water,
bouncing off the hand you’re cleansing,
falling once again and rolling gently down the drain?
Have you ever heard of brawny new round
bilge lap strake sea skiffs a sailing?
1957 ‘s tailing Myrna loy in hornblow heaven.
No? You haven’t? that’s a shame.
Hey, you haven’t heard one single word I’ve said.
Hey, I’ll have to hand it to myself instead.
It’s 1898 you’re curled up in ball
Inside a barrel toward the falls
you bob in peril
feel the roar and pray its thunderous…
Show the whore you’re someone she will miss…
Death to thee will be thy counter diss…
The afterlife is perfect for a tryst.
((newstereo))
