So many planes flying over my head, whilst I’m still trying to separate both hearts from out the lead. What gold is this? East water Wiz, replacing the who is, and the who not from cordially walking in and out of my bliss. But we love this. And how we love, oh how we love to try new trousers, and throw crystal upon every dull thing because we now know, how to feel hurt, a little less. Experience is for the monkey whom already decided that enough potassium was consumed in the sun, so, he or she, shall eat to live. Naturally experienced, no price on age, though one year deferred; guess I caught up with the, what’s the word? Choice. Love me not by my chin, but by the wind out, and pushed underneath my rib cage, feel my heart beat for the doubt, and I promise you, you’d hear no sound. I’ve got a lot of space beneath my eyes, so mine tears all you want, these wells run dry when I see your flaunt.
Let’s start it new, before we’re reminded that old can still be implemented into our realities, gladly seen before eyes which once drank fallacies.