5
Let a sucker drift, I lift up every stone prone to find.
Busting accidental dirt bike donuts, outside the most ridiculous poison tongue brain silo, dead before the chubby debutante conquered the high note, schooled by the cruel intention inventions pensive sideshow.
Silhouette's a map with a style, our team, running with the lamp in the nighttime, feral rats, kings, and queens.
Earth to AR vertical burden has increased at an alarming rate, bliss is down a point, murder up, glee down and still falling, still crawling out of bed at 2 on Saturdays, came this blind soldier-burning confessional.
In a brick box, every inch a pyre, higher, tossing tires on the chain of the tiger, I was born.