That's the logical explanation. Destruction might assume charge or feed belief. Passing time again, fun out on the street. That's still juvenile preoccupation.
I'll throw you scraps and talk. The bad things. The language or the motive. Affected shown is. . Self imitating. Trust the dying breed. The pitch I made has been.
Moving out of white city. I'm going somewhere. I won't know anybody. I don't care. . A million miles away. It's too late to find heaven anyway. . Moving out of white city.
You heard about, 'be your own man'. You talk a lot and loud. Illustrate the obvious boy. You're mentally endowed. . Watershed year comes. You're flush with fever.
Somebody pull the trigger. We are in business now. We'll make a killing man. . I don't know why we're hated. Yeah, we got problems too. It's only filthy land.
Find something mindless I can advocate. Make up the me I want to be. Then always keep a finger on "the pulse". Maintain high visibility. . Grubbing for any contact I can make.
Petty news, it's only your bad ear. It might be worth it. To watch what you hear. Feeling great now you expand your view. You can't forget, somebody hates you.
I start to feel sick whenever we talk. It's nothing medical. Ever remark you make is off the cuff. You're so unwound it's unnatural. . I know you're acting now.
Your contribution left unnoticed some. Association with an image. Just credit time for showing up again. Attention wandered I'm left with it. . Gone by sin too slowly.
Come off crisp and play up to the cynic. Clean and schooled right down to the minute. You need to hear that your life is rough. Speaking out and cold that you've had enough.
The tic begins where's the manned end?. The climate change will never get in. Silent and strong and prepossessed. You never need to make your own mess.
Darlin' was a hit. Started throwing punches. She connects, never gets what she wants. And she wants. . She's unhinged. Swears now that was then. Just a little glitch.
Land sakes alive, the steak's alive. Give him a hug and he drinks and. He drives. Why the long fave mr. ed? it's. The hour of darkness and. The hour of dread.
Tone of the repressed, enthusiastic anchor. Local "bite" saved a worm. The aim to sate then. Thank 'em. . Taken. . Another gimmick to reach your. Need to consume.
Hanging out with all these dicks. Still collecting tokens. Knock 'em back, you're making no sense. You live in the moment. . Wonder you're not morning sick.
There are things you never know. You need removed before. You think too much, you feel, you touch. Just cut 'em out for good, good. . So put me under know.
First I'll panic quick and listen. To advice. Agree to anything and try to be. Too nice. Then my skin flakes, another allergy. I'm not making sense, just.
Indecisive and deaf or dumb. Tongue-dried in the sun. Nervous speech and your mental health. Drunk on every detail. . Loosened up from the moral slide as though.
Darlin' I would never tell. Use your speak and spell. . Like revolution that's bound to stall. It's hard to be ignored. . It doesn't mean that much. I don't hate your guts but.