want me dead, you should have called me home Rumble strip as pulse prevents retreating eyes, dilate and close I can feel the dry heaves moisten, I can
I should be discontinued, I am a broadcasting embarrassment Hiss like the damned Decoding the transmitted pulse that dispatch from her lips I am not
I have not said anything because I am sleeping.
to me But there's something in the way she moves Like I want to make me want you Tonight I feel like fame, dreary and estranged I'd scratch through glass
startled. i didn't survive the crash. this is nothing personal. i just had to stop shaking. i'm sorry, but i don't feel as if i'm in any shape to comfort
has made you sleepy. you rest while i untie you, wait here until they find you. we've got some time before the reverie ends. i've combed my hair, brought
of God is love I'm rotting and I'm not yet dead, I'm the king of worms and I'll have your head Resurrected roadkill, blueprinted skin, I swear, I've never
I was blown away And later on that fall at the Dixie Mall when I didn't know what to say I seen hidin' her hair and no dynamite but honey I was blown
Unless you speak with a drowning tongue I'm not listening I'm not focusing My eyes have sunk and set And I am invincible I'm water proof Someone said
landscape Surveillance operators our company can afford I have a very expensive pen, I use big words quite often In substitution for semantically equivalent words I
want me dead, you should have called me home. rumble strip as pulse prevents retreating eyes, dilate and close. i can feel the dry heaves moisten, i
the game. i should be discontinued. i am a broadcasting embarrasment. hiss like the damned. decoding the transmitted pulse that dispatch from her lips. i
to me. but there's somthing in the way she moves, like i want to. make me want you. tonight i feel like fame, dreary and estranged. i'd scratch through
flailing has made you sleepy. you rest while i untie you. stay here until they find you. we've got some time before the reverie ends. i've combed my hair
appear startled. I didn't survive the crash. This is nothing personal. I just had to stop shaking. I'm sorry, but I don't feel as if I'm in any shape
of god is love. i'm rotting, and i'm not yet dead. i'm the king of worms and i'll have your head. resurrected roadkill, blueprinted skin. i swear i've
tragic but i am sobering up). pick up the phone. tonight i feel like the hero of a rusting war. my touch has the timing and precision of a car wreck.