- a play of word symbols.
I'm workin' on the afta-glow, flip flip burnin' like a bull roar wavin'.
Hog-fest shiftin' was sublime, but that dandy play had me spinnin' for a day or two too many and now here we are shittin' on the hope dance of fuzzy augured flies.
A causal clause had us hammered - into tidy flat pack boxes with lungs compressin' like that corkscrew in your bones. It was supposed to be a best beginning. How did that come out?
Lookalike baubles keep tracin' hopscotch, bouncin' up and down a makeshift ladder with no open destination. Panther-padded observation seeks for equational maturation in the quartered mind, pouncin' non-playfully upon stumbled acquiescence.
Trance it baby, find the form, you might wanna turn it back again. I'll help you find the ransom. Glow-tracks fell before we found them, but the best kept secret was recorded and now we have the co-opted version to sing a fancy song.
Wee fizz ringer, did 'cha see that go? All up and trendy like a vacuum with no motor. I'll have another slip-tred for ya later, but for now let's ring that rosie-slide-apple into homeplate and sip on comfort.
Kommentare