Can you find something real? Tea wine for the mother behaves.
I can’t look back for heaven, deciding your motherfucking caver.
Bothered strange
Aim!
Bothered strange
Can you feel something dead? Well take mine, for everything yeah.
Open through every maggot, rain, I feel bad for everything you’re saying.
Well I’m a poem. So feel my hardest.
And I, I’m a poem. So keep heart.
Now I’m alone, you fit my heart.
All in a bone, keep my heart.
Can you feel something red? Let it be for everything, yeah.
I can’t look back from hell, deciding your little pity greed. |
