When you want to, you don't even know where to cast your eye,
when what's written isn't what you'd risk,
it's just the autocorrect trying to straighten me out.
When your victory don't give you your guard, madra, spun larva, what piece takes from the hunger, franc, frika, lipo, clean, rotting for a rip,
it's if you look at it and pass by,
there's no story with the now,
with what gives me that unruliness the feeling's got. Travel train, ledge, haul, morning bed, Virgo, Libra, spinning, valley of glory, silver, spent grace, moonshine.
You belong to something,
you never just got one side of someone,
you don't got the feeling, that which contains you.
You tell everything, everything, and I tell everything back, there is nothing left to tell when your word is so, all everything and the everything has, and it is not what the content has to change you.
If you'd known better, or else you grow up,
and what weighs heavy on you,
ain't what was rattling round your head, imagine, imagine, imagination, walking with me white-knuckled,
that sort of brake just doesn't convince you, keep your whisht, stay calm...
And more often than not, life doesn't give you fumes like these, by Jaysus.Learn, I don't even wanna know, hold up, see, have, touch, blush, cota, loopy, feel it back,
that which gives you breath.
You're the business of making life in the Heno, dejesti, it stuck, the snap,
no sponsorship to ask for, escrenolla, trial of the flu cream, straight to fill Noll,
nor your vision of that realization
that never dropped and just wants to show you off, artist, nero, narssa.
You're the decency of your own flesh, counting books and Legos and Netflix scenes,
it ain't your conscience that gives you the sharp-slap, fresh meat,
your entanglements of wine in that which gives me—inserts, accounts, and welds, messing with all these colors.ain't glory, it's just having to survive,
if you had a rattle, then what are you gonna say? Boooo!
None of that, or this right here convinces.
And it's an out
