Only the magical transit children sing, sing the lullaby bah, bah, bah,. Sitting on the pavement sucking on a long straw, it's colorful,. It's colorful, but it washes you out.
A fervored image of another world. Is nothing in particular now. And imitation comes naturally. But I never really stopped to think how. And everyone is a clever clone.
Hello Peter Panic. You've landed on our planet. What a strange thing you are. With little pissy eyes. . You got in the television. Turned us all old and wisened.