A thing with wings beside a marionette. A piece of metal that a fox protects. What types of us didn’t you expect. All flower no vine, the best except, never gotted cropped in a locket. Nah izalia gone unpotted just a thing that was and is now rotted.
I ain’t no mime with coins hat and quiet throat.
I’m a chariot swinging low dynamo I’m that swing low chariot ho dynamo
I wanna spend strings of dates where the subways snake, rail spark flakes, real frail fates. I’m talking walking where the well to do don’t populate. I hate to break it to you world, hooker hater perfect picture Money mixture paper death gimmie dimes nickel wooden plague times debit im only me mine.