Simmer down Holdeth hands Merry go 'round nursery rhyms Didnt mean to do it Lost track of tine In the mere ignorance Of how hard it is to raise a kid to have moralled values While i sit here wondering where the twin light fae speaketh my name. but no love comes from the thrall. And peckish situation makes art come to life In my garter belt i shrink the situation. Untill it all evolves,,; until the punctuation fills my breathes and dreamers disease flood my gasm mind
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