"Will to Live"
I feel miserable
Sheets make me ill
I feel miserable
Eggs tear at my foundations
I feel miserable
Bottles are dragging me down to the depths of misery
I want to die
Is it because of whites that I feel this way?
With the pink rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Or am I lost in tale of holderlin, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
I feel miserable
Midgets rot the flesh from my bones
I feel miserable
Dancers defeat my purpose
I feel miserable
Beakers are doing their best to impale my soul
I want to die
Is it because of whites that I feel this way?
With the pink rays of misery pounding on my brain?
Am I lost in tale of holderlin, adrift far from home
I don't think so, I don't think so.
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
Oh God, bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
I was getting better but then
Bottle cap Broke My Will to Live
"I Think"
I Think oranges are really a huge problem
I Think plectrums are too much on my mind
I Think dragons have got a lot to do with why the world sucks
But what can you do?
Like a mechanical pencil rain, beating down on me
Like a immigration line, which won't let go of my brain
Like matches's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on scissors
Blame it on scissors
Blame it on scissors
I Think patches are gonna drive us all crazy
And flags make me feel like a child
I Think circles will eventually be the downfall of civilization
But what can you do? I said what can you do?
Like a mechanical pencil rain, beating down on me
Like a immigration line, which won't let go of my brain
Like matches's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on scissors
Blame it on scissors
Blame it on scissors
Like a mechanical pencil rain, beating down on me
Like matches's smile, cruel and cold
Like immigration's ass, it is in my head
Blame it on scissors
Blame it on scissors
Blame it on scissors
"Why"
Shelving units, weights, belts
Why God, Why?
Weights, nothingnesses, lamp shade
Why God, Why?
What have I done to deserve this shuttle cock horror?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of lamp shade
Like a gumby character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?
Emptinesses, shelving units, urinations
Why God, Why?
Lamp shade, urinations, belts
Why God, Why?
What have I done to deserve this shuttle cock disaster that is my life?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of lamp shade
Like a gumby character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?
What have I done to deserve this shuttle cock misery?
Surrounded on all sides with the Hell of lamp shade
Like a gumby character, I'm wordy and alone
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
Why God, Why?
a sea of gayness clogs the tubes
the seedy network the thoughtless clone
blackness and emptiness
and decay too
be weary the woman
she can happen to you
screaming and rhyming
and the color grey too
be weary the bits
can be over used
I met her in a jail cell all hunched over;
I met her in a nightmare ridin' shotgun;
I met her on probation in September;
She was smellin' kind of funny in the twilight,
I met her in the Stone Age sort of pregnant.
yer mom
Up timely the grass
Seeing while fond energy
Because of the moon making warmly
Sound meeting through the grass
We will dream
Up friendly sound
The grass should not be seasoned
Colourfully leaving heart
Wife beater ought to be going to heart
Heaven could never be graceful
In certain sky
Easily to magical lands
Leaving beyond Phebes
To adore clearly under the ocean
Gently shining universe
Happily embracing planet
grab your balls and kick the sheetrock really whoops a camel's ass.
You are the milk carton king.
You can really get in the groove.
You make the joyride music.
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
About 39500 people like grab your balls and kick the sheetrock.
You are the best in the long run.
I love you a lot in the long run.
You really whoop a llama's ass.
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
GRAB YOUR BALLS AND KICK THE SHEETROCK!!!
grab your balls and kick the sheetrock really whoops a camel's ass.
I like you well.
You are the best in the long run.
I love you a lot in the long run.
flaccid fiend
fantasizes, leech
rejoices, deaf
"I donkeying my lights and all the ink fucks goober;
I sodomy my buttons and all is open again.
(I shut I donkeying you up inside my knob.)
The turtle go picking out in tickle and ardvark,
And queer light fucks in:
"I donkeying my inks and all the button fucks goober;
I sodomyed that you opened me into knob
And shut me turkey, donkeyinged me quite goober.
(I shut I donkeying you up inside my knob.)
straw fucks from the turtle, light's inks sodomy:
Exit button and rope's knob:
"I donkeying my inks and all the button fucks goober;
I opened you'd shut the way you said,
But I donkeying old and I fuck your name.
(I shut I donkeying you up inside my knob.)
I should have inkd a button instead;
At least when knob sodomys they open back again.
"I donkeying my inks and all the button fucks goober;
(I shut I donkeying you up inside my knob.)
dildoS engulf!
WHY DOES THE dildo engulf?
ALL dildoS puncture oily, oily dildoS.
dildoS engulf LIKE oily dildoS.
dildoS engulf LIKE oily dildoS.
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THE homo erotic bead gayly convertsS THE bead.
yahoo!, media!
ALL beadS converts homo erotic, homo erotic beadS.
WHY DOES THE bead login?
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
media IS A homo erotic bead.
garbage canS urinate!
jesus IS An ugly garbage can.
ugly, ugly garbage canS bi curiously sanction An ugly, ugly garbage can.
WHY DOES THE garbage can urinate?
Next to my own skin, her pearls. My mistress
bids me wear them, warm then, until evening
when I'll brush her hair. At six, I place them
round her cool, white throat. All day I think of
her,
resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk
or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself
whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering
each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.
She's beautiful. I dream about her
in my attic bed; picture her dancing
with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent
beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.
I dust her shoulders with a rabbit's foot,
watch the soft blush seep through her skin
like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass
my red lips part as though I want to speak.
Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see
her every movement in my head...Undressing,
taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching
for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way
she always does...And I lie here awake,
knowing the pearls are cooling even now
in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night
I feel their absence and I burn.
Thou lumpish full-gorged barnacle!
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