We've paid that shoeshine boy. whose buff has no smile. He spits on your tip toes. and you keep bragging folklore. like it's out of style. out of focus.
Pregnant with the keys. To your stick shift mood. Can't get yourself ignition. Can't get yourself ignition. . Grease-stained parking lot. Embed and loiter bottle tops.
This time I'm gonna take the collection baby. And with the money in my hand. I'm gonna purchase all the details. Scrub you clean with my soap opera chirping.