The leaves like a back.
No spinning required. That upward judge like stair.
It would take a moment to realize that you're surrounded by air.
Stone is no longer your angry fingers.
If you would walk and say hello to me, I would be grateful.
What's up bro? Yo!
It's ok to know and not tell. Only experience seems to be an indica.
But only your lips would take the place of a joint, Gwen.
That reassurance is in your time, for only you can be a large violin type.
The flowers are like a bell that ring on the wall.
The look of white skin really shines against my shoulders.
But what is next? No goals can be met except with a welcome hello.
If I'm free to leave I can freely choose to stay.
Otherwise you can fall right back down that well oh idol of truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment