Like a red state's Baptist fervor.. Like a small town's unsolved murder.. Some secrets are just best resting in the tombs of buried thought-slums.. As for Texas: donuts only - you cannot find bagels here..
My girl is a bowl of hash, a familiar looking rash,. My girl's my secret stash, my shampooed pile of trash.. My girl's a borealis-lit fjord.. My girl's a summons ignored..