crime scene healed over |
the end of history, there might be something to it |
works like a dog |
incense sky, i dont know why, but the thugs below are eerily still silent, i only know they're there by the incense in my eyes. |
fiftyseven candles, wo, wo wo, bobby, i love you so. |
on your knees sally |
fat squirrel sorry unpc on a rock with ornamental frozen veggies |
towers become tunnels |
what if enlightenment only commences at a peace meal pace |
ask the woodeater |
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