down left a goat for hire wooly boogers on our damp pajamas you
are my arm, said me, chanting delicately and yet the sun gently
caresses the milky skin of your cheek Because its fast and efficient and
not to throw the rocks away, but gather. DON'T PRESS THAT
but............ Love 'im to pieces, feed 'im in a rut My pockets empty the shop
is shut with bedazzled pupils encompassing
by lavashing you with gifts not involving Spam or mooses